A Prince's Uncle
by KyloBear
Summary: Merlin, having saved Arthur at Camlann, now sits beside his friends as adviser, court warlock, brother, and an Uncle. But now there's an evil plot to overthrow the kingdom with a certain heir of Camelot in the middle of it and Merlin may be too sick to help. Fluff, angst, whump. Au set post-canon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N****: Hello, my lovable readers! So glad to see you again and I'm extremely happy you took the time to read this fic of mine. I've read various 'Uncle' Merlin stories but there isn't as many as I'd like and it was so hard to find the ones I did. So I sat down and wrote this - forever ago now - and finally decided to share it! Come now, you must admit, the Uncle Merlin Fanfictions are adorable!**

***Squeals in delight***

**I do hope you enjoy this story! Sorry for any/all mistakes because, as I've said before, I do edit all my stories by myself. If someone was willing to be my beta that would be awesome, although it would be new for me because I've never had someone read my stories for me before hand. I also wrote this at 2:00 in the morning so if it's atrociously written or really cheesy in some areas, I blame it on being sleep deprived. **

**Now, enough of my rambling! Read, my fellow fanfiction lovers! Please review and I'll see you next chapter which should be uploaded in the next couple of days. - constructive criticism is always welcome! ;)**

***Flies away on dragon***

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin... But wouldn't it be cool if I did?!**

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"_The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof."  
_― Richard Bach, _Illusions_

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Queen Guinevere of Camelot sat by one of the large windows within her and Arthur's chambers. Her hands rested comfortably on her large stomach, feeling as her unborn child kicked yet again. Her estimated due date was in a mere weeks time and she was excited, very much prepared to give birth to her second child.

Her eldest, the future king of Camelot, was but four summers old. Prince Amr Pendragon was his name and although he had many similar features to his mother, his personality had so far reminded everyone of Arthur. Amr had light brown, curly hair and hazel eyes. Even at a young age he had shown that he possessed his mother's wisdom yet his father's pride and adventurism. At four years old he could already be considered noble. He was surely going to be a future knight - and a fantastic one at that.

Amr was such a sweet child, whom everyone loved dearly, but a certain warlock knew he would grow up to be as much of a prat as his father - or at least in his teenage years. Amr himself was extremely fond of his uncle, the court warlock, Merlin. Amr was close with all of his 'uncles', better known as the knights of the round table, but Merlin - also the most like a brother to Arthur - was the closest to Amr. In fact, Gwen was nearly certain that Amr was with the warlock right in that moment, as she sat and watched the happenings down below in the courtyard.

Merlin had fallen sick recently and their wishes for their son to leave him be, for fear that Amr could also become ill, were ignored. The young prince spent many an evening sitting upon his uncle's bed beside him, rambling on about the days events and all the exciting things he had done. Merlin would often fall asleep to the sound of the prince's voice, and Amr would soon after join him in a peaceful rest, leaning against the warlock's side. It was just a few days past that Gwen had walked in to find her son's head on Merlin's lap, sleeping soundly, with his uncle's fingers intertwined in his hair. A book rested on Merlin's chest as a sure sign that the warlock had been reading to the boy.

Merlin was always so good to him. A second father to the prince. Amr looked up to Arthur with awe and such admiration, but Merlin inspired his imagination - sometimes with the help of magic - that made the prince look at Merlin as a best friend as well as family.

When Amr had been but three years of age Arthur had gone on a quest, and although Merlin persisted he go also, the king made Merlin stay behind. The knights believe the one thing that had finally convinced Merlin to remain in Camelot was Arthur's plea that he wanted to be sure Gwen and Amr would be protected in his absence. It was over a month later that Arthur returned, his wife having worried something terrible had happened while his son simply missed him dearly.

Arthur, having heard from a maid that Merlin, Gwen, and Amr were all in the kings chambers, went to see his family. However, as the king opened the doors he was met by an unexpected sight. Merlin was in the middle of his bed, boots still on, and cloak around his shoulders. Guinevere was on his left side in her night gown and covered in the thick blankets. Her arms were wrapped around him and his arm draped across her shoulders as her head rested on his chest. Amr was practically in the warlocks lap, his tiny fingers locked tightly onto Merlin's hand. Arthur realized that he was indeed gone longer than intended and that there was no way to inform his family that he was safe. The king was glad Merlin was here to comfort his wife and son when he could not. For that he was happy of the choice he made to leave his brother in all but blood to care for them and by the looks of things, he had done a swell job.

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Gwen continued to think about her three favorite boys as she looked down at the courtyard. She easily spot Arthur's head of blonde hair and watched as he spoke to Leon and Gwaine. Then a knock sounded through the bed chambers and the queen jumped slightly, startled by the sudden noise.

"You may enter," Gwen called out.

Guinevere's maid, who went by the name Lynn, stepped in. She possessed lovely, long blonde hair and small brown eyes. She had taken up the position of the queen's servant shortly after the battle of Camlann - a time no one really cared to remember. They had become good friends in the past five years of each others company. Gwen even persisted the use of her name rather than use of her queenly titles.

"Sorry to disturb you, Gwen. I went to Lord Merlin's chambers in order to make sure he was well and he wished me to tell you that Prince Amr has fallen asleep in his bed again," Lynn said. "Would you like me to have him brought to the nursery?"

Gwen smiled.

"Actually I was just thinking of visiting our court warlock. You said he was awake, yes?"

"He was when I left, my lady."

"Then just leave Amr be, I'll go to them." Gwen told her kindly.

The queen stood up as gracefully as possible with her large, round stomach. However, as she finally got to her feet a sudden pain erupted in her lower abdomen. Not even a full ten seconds later she felt as warm liquid sped down the insides of her legs. She snapped her head up, eyes wide, and looked at Lynn with alarm.

"The baby's coming!"

Lynn immediately stepped out and asked the guards to find Gaius and the midwife as the new prince or princess was on their way. They took off down the corridor with haste and Lynn went back to her mistress who was leaning against the wall and in obvious discomfort.

"I had forgotten how brilliant this is." Gwen muttered.

"Is that sarcasm I hear, Gwen?" Lynn asked with a smirk.

Guinevere said nothing more for they both knew the answer to the maids question. She groaned as another wave of pain hit her and Lynn quickly helped her to the bed.

"I fear for Arthur…" The queen said thoughtfully.

"Why is that?"

"When Amr was born Arthur panicked a great deal. The only one capable to calm him was Merlin."

"I'm sure all will be well, my lady," Lynn assured her. "Knowing Merlin he'll ignore his own well-being and be beside Arthur anyways."

"As he always is," Gwen said with a knowing smile. "As he always is."

It wasn't much later when Gaius arrived and with him the midwife - the same one to have helped with Amr's birth. When Arthur was notified he hurriedly went to his wife's side, talking with her and reassuring her everything would be fine. Of course, they both knew he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. The queen remained in labor for another two hours. Arthur stayed with her. Then as it came time to begin the more strenuous part, and the order to push was about to be spoken, the king was rushed out of the room. Arthur wasn't sure as to why exactly, but his feet carried him to Merlin's chambers.

Merlin was sitting up, back against the headboard, reading a book. Amr was sleeping soundly beside him, the prince's head rested on Merlin's right leg. When Arthur walked in Amr remained in his dream filled rest, however Merlin was stolen from his peaceful reading time and looked up from his book with startled eyes.

"Arthur?" Merlin said as he caught eye of his king. "What's wrong?"

The warlock had always had a knack for spotting the unease on Arthur's face. Ever since Merlin's second year in Camelot he was able to read his friends face and could tell when something was troubling him.

"Gwen - I'm just - I'm worried about her." Arthur stumbled over his words in his frustration.

"Arthur, when the time comes, Gwen will be fine! Remember how strong she was when Amr was born?" Merlin said with a comforting smile.

"Has no one informed you?" Arthur blanched.

"Of what exactly?" Merlin asked with confusion.

"Guinevere is in the process of giving birth to our second child this very moment, Merlin!"

Merlin's eyes grew wide.

"What?" The warlock seemed to squeek.

"How did you not know?!"

"No one bothered to tell me!"

"Well she is, and if you haven't noticed yet, I'm a bit worried!"

"Arthur, stop panicking." Merlin said.

"I am not panicking! Kings don't panic!" Arthur nearly shouted, his loud voice beginning to arouse Amr from his slumber.

"It looks like it to me, you prat," Merlin told him fondly. "Gwen will be alright. She's strong, you know that as well as I."

Arthur let out a sigh that sounded a lot like resignation. The king knew Merlin was correct - Guinevere was strong - and there was nothing to be worried about.

Amr sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily as he yawned. Merlin looked at the prince and grinned knowing just how excited he would be when once he realized his little brother or sister was being born into the world. Ever since Guinevere's pregnancy became noticeable Amr had been ecstatic, telling everyone just how great of a big brother he was going to be. There was only one day out of the nine months that the young prince expressed any form of hesitance as he finally asked the question everyone was expecting: Will you love my baby brother or sister more than me?

Gwen and Arthur were quick to assure their son that the new baby would need a lot of looking after but that they would love both of them equally. That was the end of Amr's worry and he immediately went back to being thrilled at the thought of having a sibling.

"Daddy why you being so loud," Amr asked when he noticed his father standing in the room. "What's the matter?"

"I'm sorry, my son, I'm just anxious." Arthur told him while running his fingers through his hair.

"Why?" Amr questioned.

Arthur looked at Merlin and then back at his son before he stepped forward with confidence and smiled. He sat on the end of the bed, beside Merlin, and Amr crawled over the warlocks legs to reach his father.

"You know how mommy told you that your little brother or sister was coming soon?"

"Yeah! She says that's why her belly's so big!" Amr chirped, proud for remembering the conversation.

"Well, the baby is arriving even sooner than expected and mommy is working hard to get him - or her - here." Arthur explained.

There was a long, nearly uncomfortable silence after Arthur finished and Merlin just sat and watch the prince and king. Then Amr's eyes went wide as he finished processing what his father meant and a large smile grew on his face.

"I'm gonna become a big brother today?"

"Yes, Amr, and you're going to be the best big brother in the world too."

"When - when's the baby gonna be here?!" Amr asked with all tiredness gone from his eyes replaced with pure and utter excitement.

"Soon, I think." Arthur said with a smile.

Amr was beaming, practically bouncing on the bed. Merlin chuckled at him, but for some reason, the sound of his laughter stopped the prince in his tracks. Amr turned around and looked at Merlin sadly.

"Will you be able to see the baby? Will you, Uncle Merlin?"

Merlin's mood suddenly also dropped as he realised the young prince had a point. Being sick it could be dangerous to be around a newborn, as there was always the possibility they would fall ill as well and not be able to fight it off. They had worried about this as the due date drew near and Merlin continued to remain bedridden for the king and queen wanted the warlock to be one of the first to see their new child. Merlin looked at Arthur and then, with a sigh, responded to Amr's question.

"We'll just have to see, little prince. I'm certain Gaius will let me know if I can or can't."

"But you _have _to be there!"

"I don't know, Amr." Merlin said.

Arthur gave him a saddened look knowing Merlin was the next most excited about all of this besides Gwen, Amr, and himself. The knights, although all of them possessing the title of 'uncle' to Amr, were not nearly as close to being an actual part of the family as Merlin was. Yes, they were part of the large dysfunctional group that considered themselves brothers and a sister, but Merlin could easily pass as the _actual_ brother to the king - some people having actually mistaken him for such. The warlock was closer to the royal family than anyone else and probably loved them more than anyone else. So Arthur knew the idea that he may not see his new nephew or niece for another few weeks was probably upsetting Merlin more than he let on. However, after a handful of more questions from Amr (and even some begging), the subject was dropped.

The next hour and a half was made up of discussion about baby names, who would be the new childs favorite, if the baby would look more like Gwen or Arthur, and what an absolutely brilliant older brother Amr would be. The knights of the round table made their appearance toward the end of their wait and Gwaine was giving Amr a shoulder ride around the chambers when Lynn came in, gasping for air, as if she ran all the way there. She gave the king an enormous grin and told him Gwen and the baby were both healthy and that he could go see them. Arthur sprinted out of the chambers and Gwaine put Amr down, the young prince taking hold of Lynn's hand so she could lead him to his new sibling. The knights followed them out leaving the warlock alone in bed.

Gaius came into Merlin's chambers soon after saying that the child was extremely healthy and strong for a babe and that if Merlin was deemed well enough, he could go see the newborn. So not even five minutes later Merlin was walking toward the kings chambers, holding onto the physician's arm as his legs were unsteady from disuse. The knights were outside the chambers gazing at the family through the open door. They all gave Merlin smiles as he walked past them and into the room.

Gwen was propped up against the headboard looking exhausted but gleaming with happiness. Arthur was sitting beside her holding a bundle in his arms that he smiled down at with such love Merlin couldn't help but smile also. Amr sat on the bed next to his mother, holding her hand, and gazed at the babe in Arthur's arms with awe. Arthur didn't take his eyes off his new child until Merlin was standing directly beside him, in which the king looked up at his brother in all but blood and seemed to smile even brighter.

"It's another boy," Arthur said softly, still smiling. "A beautiful boy."

Merlin stepped closer so he could see he prince and a sudden wave of power struck him. He could only imagine one thing that this could imply and his own smile seemed to grow. His eyes found the wide open ones of the baby boy and felt an immediate connection to the child.

"What is his name?"

"Gwydre," Gwen responded with a bright smile. "His name is Gwydre."

Merlin's own smile grew as the new prince seemed to reach out to him with his tiny, soft hands.

"This one will be a lover, not a fighter - definitely taking after his mother in that way," Merlin told them proudly. "He'll be wise beyond his years, and an amazing advisor to Amr when they're older."

The warlock continued gazing at the prince and there was no denying the magic he felt anymore.

"It also seems you'll have your hands full with this one in the early years… I would even make a suggestion as to have my own mother come and help out."

"What do you mean?" Guinevere asked.

"I do believe, my friends, that your second son has been born with magic."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: 'Eyyo everyone! I know, I know - I'm a bit late! I blame it on school =_= Stupid school. **

**But I have returned with a new chapter. There should be at least one more after this!**

**Sorry if it's not the best, I had a difficult time organizing this chapter and writing it out the way I had originally planned. **

**Oh, and a question was also brought up that had to do with Merlin's immortality. I figure that even if Arthur survived at Camlann that Merlin would remain immortal for Arthur would still pass on eventually and rise again, blah blah. But for the sake of this story we're going to pretend that with Arthur's survival Merlin is no longer immortal and, therefore, can die. - Insert evil laugh here -**

**Enjoy and please review! See you next time ~ **

***Flies away on dragon***

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_"I do believe, my friends, that your second son has been born with magic." _

Arthur couldn't believe his ears. The tiny child in his arms, his bright blue azure eyes gleaming up at the court warlock, had magic. Born with magic, just as Merlin had been - new to the world but already filled with power. Beautiful, raw power, fresh and bright and soon to grow into something even more magnificent. Magic that Arthur had once feared, hated even, was now every part of his son as it was a part of Merlin. Magic that the king knew Gwydre would grow to do great things with. Only, Arthur wanted to know how? Guinevere finally asked the question that was on both their minds.

"Merlin, I don't doubt your ability to sense this kind of thing, but how is this even possible? Are you certain he has magic?"

Merlin, still gazing down at the newborn prince, pondered their question a moment. His smile faltered slightly as he was unsure himself as to why the second prince was born with such gifts.

"I'm not all that sure as to how exactly... Perhaps it is because Arthur was born _of _magic - that power could have lingered and then gone onto Gwydre," the warlock suggested.

"Then why does Amr not have magic also?" Arthur asked.

Merlin simply shrugged and said, "let that be a question we look into another time. Let just enjoy the fact we now have a new prince."

"I'm finally a big brother, Uncle Merlin!" Amr stated proudly, speaking up for the first time since arriving.

"And you'll be the best big brother there ever was!" Merlin told him.

Amr smiled brightly and then shifted as to get a better look at his new sibling. The eldest prince was fascinated, thinking he had never seen something so small - except a pup, because Uncle Gwaine had showed him a pup a few months prior and that dog was even more tiny than his little brother! He studied Gwydre and noticed he had a full head of hair that was dark like their mother's. However, his deep blue eyes were definitely like their father's. His nose was small as a button and his cheeks as red as any rose he'd ever seen. Gwydre's lips, parted slightly, were also tiny and tinged light pink. The bottom one had drool spilling over it and reaching for the bottom of the baby's chin. Amr let out a laugh at the sight and pointed a finger at his little brother.

"He's drooling, father, look!"

Arthur looked down and grinned before making quick work of reaching over and wiping the drool away with the corner of the baby's blanket. Tiny Gwydre's face lit up as his attention shifted to his father, a toothless smile forming on the baby's - now drool free - lips.

"He's adorable," Gwen cooed. "Our second son..."

The queen, still exhausted, rested her head back and closed her eyes. Amr curled up at her side while continuing to study his new sibling and Guinevere ran her fingers through his hair lovingly. Arthur looked at them and then back at his newborn and continued to smile contently. Merlin stood at the end of the bed, leaning against the post for support, suddenly feeling drained and tired. Yet, against his abrupt fatigue, Merlin still felt gleeful as he watched the happy family. These are the people he chose to stand beside, to protect, and to love and he couldn't be more glad with his decision in that.

Arthur looked up and noticed Merlin's sudden look of exhaustion and was about to comment on it when the knights, who had been waiting very impatiently outside, walked into the room. Idiotic, exceptionally happy grins appeared on all their faces at the sight of the new prince held comfortably within Arthur's arms.

"Are you even suppose to be in here?" Merlin asked them drowsily with a knowing smirk.

"Well, it may have been brought up that coming in was off limits until further notice..." Percival said sheepishly.

"However, no one came to us with further notice so we let ourselves in. We couldn't wait to see the new prattling!" Gwaine added.

"But we'll leave if it's not alright with you, sire," Leon said, ever the proper one.

Arthur was about to ask them to leave the bed chambers when Gwen spoke up softly.

"It's causing no harm, they can stay," the queen told her husband, her eyes still closed from exhaustion. "As long as they don't make too much noise..."

"Us? Make too much noise? Never!" Gwaine said with mock sincerity.

Percival punched him lightly on the arm. _These are my most trusted knights, _Arthur thought while shaking his head in exasperation, _they should be called the children of the round table. _

"So what's his name anyways?" Gwaine asked, gesturing to the babe being held by the king.

"Gwydre!" Amr informed the knights happily from his spot beside Guinevere.

"A strong name," Percival said as he walked forward. Then, almost hesitantly, he held out his arms. "May I?"

Arthur nodded and carefully passed his son over to his strongest knight. The newborn seemed terribly tiny and frail as he rested peacefully in the large arms of Percival, but seemed extremely happy all the same and gurgled in delight at the change in scenery. Arthur realized that, usually, having a prince be held by knights in such a way would be considered improper, let alone commoner knights. However, when had they ever cared about what was and wasn't proper. He had married a servant, knighted these buffoons, and made his own clumsy manservant his first advisor. Besides, they had all held Amr in much the same way after he was born, although all of them were slightly more nervous about the whole thing.

"I call holding him next!" Gwaine broke the silence.

"I'm not so sure. I trust Percival and Leon, but _you_, Gwaine, are a different story entirely." Arthur said.

Gwaine feigned being hurt and placed his hands over his heart for added dramatic effect.

"That stings, it really does! But, if you do recall, I was the first to hold Amr... Well, after you, of course."

"No," Leon corrected. "Merlin actually held Amr first after Arthur."

"Merlin, help me out here!" Gwaine begged turning toward the warlock, but what he and everyone else saw made their banter come to an abrupt halt.

Merlin was leaning on the bedpost even more heavily now, and he seemed to be panting, his breathing coming out in quick, pained gasps. His eyes were glassy and a fine sheen of sweat could be seen across his forehead. He suddenly looked far paler than he had earlier and the shady circles under his eyes certainly darker.

"You alright, mate?" Gwaine asked with concern as he moved toward his friend.

"Tired," Merlin muttered.

Fortunately, Gaius decided to enter the moment Merlin began sliding to the floor. Gwaine quickly caught him and slung one of the warlock's arms around his shoulders so he could support him. The knight's arm wrapped around Merlin's waist as to help keep him standing. The physician quickly went to Merlin's other side and checked his pulse and questioned him on how he was feeling.

"What's wrong, Gaius?" Arthur asked, trying desperately to keep the worry out of his voice.

"He seems to have simply exhausted himself, sire. He hasn't left his chambers since becoming ill and although he was feeling better, I believe he still exerted himself coming here and staying so long. Hopefully, with rest, he should be fine."

"You'll make him better," Amr said, startling those who thought him asleep. "Won't you Gaius?"

"I will do everything in my power, my boy," the physician assured the young prince before turning to face Gwaine. "Now, if you would be so kind as to help me take Merlin to his chambers, Sir Gwaine."

"Of course," the rouged knight responded without hesitation.

So off they went, leaving the others to hope Merlin would be alright, because despite Gaius' words they couldn't help but worry.

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"S'rry... I was fine 'n then my head started hurting..." Merlin mumbled as he was lead by Gwaine to his bed chambers.

"It's alright, my boy. It just seems you're still more ill than I originally thought." Gaius told him while patting his shoulder.

"Yeah, it's no worry, mate," Gwaine assured him.

They continued on their way toward the warlock's chambers in silence. Merlin occasionally lost his footing and fell forward, only the knight's sturdy hold on him preventing his meeting with the floor. Gwaine, if he was honest, felt more than a little concerned. When Merlin had walked passed them earlier to meet the new prince he looked better than he had in days, albeit still far too pale for comfort, and was smiling like a mad man. Even while having to lean against Gaius for support the warlock seemed stronger than they had seen him look since becoming ill nearly over a month ago. The physician continued to assure them it was only a simple, non-threatening illness, but they were having a harder and harder time believing him the longer Merlin remained bed ridden.

Looking back, Gwaine couldn't remember the moment Merlin started showing signs of being sick. It came unexpectedly and suddenly, now that he thought about it. They had been within the council chambers, a meeting being held between only the inner round table which consisted of him, Leon, Gaius, Percival, Gwen, Arthur, and Merlin. So few they were at that point, having lost so many, yet stronger than ever before.

Only Guinevere, Gaius, and Leon were sitting at the table, Arthur was pacing and Gwaine leaned against a pillar while munching on an apple, Percival beside him. Merlin was standing behind his chair, holding onto it tightly. They had been discussing a recent threat by an unnamed sorcerer who had decided to pick up the pieces Morgana left after her death. Everything was silent except for Arthur's boots hitting the stone floor as the king walked back and forth, trying not to worry, as he thought of what to do against the recent, fortunately minor, attacks to the outer villages. Then, as Gwaine recalled, even that sound disappeared and everyone looked to their king curiously, wondering if he had finally come up with something. Only, their eyes all quickly followed Arthur's own gaze and were met with the sight of a swaying warlock, hands on his head as if in pain.

When Merlin had begun to lean too far to the left Arthur hastily went to his side and was only just able to catch the court warlock as he fell. Gaius had originally said it was simply from fatigue and that Merlin must have exhausted himself, but that idea was quickly thrown away when Merlin remained unconscious for another two days, developing a fever shortly before awakening.

Since then Merlin had stayed in his chambers, throwing up what little he could eat, spending most of each passing day sleeping, or having his fever rise to the point he began hallucinating. Only occasionally did he get out of bed other than for the use of the chamber pot. Some days he was worse, and others better. The warlock had only just seemed to start improving and now... Now he could barely keep himself standing, leaning heavily on Gwaine as they walked back to his chambers.

"I don't know how you do it, Merlin," Gwaine said softly. "But you always seem to find the worst of trouble. It's as though bad stuff is just attracted to you."

"I'm s'rry," Merlin breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed and then open again.

"No. No you don't need to - I didn't mean it like that... You don't need to apologize."

"That's good... M' so tired."

"You rest then, I've got you," Gwaine told him, not expecting the warlock to take him up on the offer so soon and pass out. They nearly fell to the ground as Merlin became completely limp but the knight steadied them and then, with one arm around his back, swung his other arm under Merlin's knees and hoisted him up. Gaius waited for them patiently, giving the smallest of smiles at the scene.

They walked the remainder of the way to Merlin's quarters and brought him inside and laid him onto his bed with haste. He was shaking now, both Gwaine and Gaius noticed, but whether from being cold or simply from exertion they had no idea. The physician placed his hand on his old ward's forehead only to draw it back in surprise. How could his fever have risen so much so fast?

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Percival had long since past Prince Gwydre on to Leon who, still anxious holding the babe, quickly returned him to his father.

"You'll have to get used to holding a baby, Leon. You have your own on its way soon enough." Arthur had chuckled as he took his son back.

"True," Percival added. "Isn't Julia expecting in but a few weeks now?"

"Yes, but my nervousness can't be helped. They're so... so _small_," Leon said, his brow furrowing. "We've faced monsters of every kind and fought against the most evil of men, and yet the prospect of having a child - a child of my own to look after and care for - frightens me more than anything."

"That's how I felt at first, with Amr. It's especially difficult, wondering if you'll be a good enough father. A father your child will be proud of. Only, once you hold them for the first time and finally realize just how important they are to you now, that anxiousness diminishes and becomes nearly non-existent," Arthur told him as he gazed down at the infant in his arms lovingly. "You'll still be fretful of years to come, of course. If you'll be able to do what's right for them and raise them to be their best, but you know that you will try your hardest and that's all that matters in the end."

Leon stared at Arthur after that, the room falling silent. Gwen's soft breathing and Amr's (the child having finally drifted off) quiet mutterings could be heard as they slept but the three men in the room had ceased their conversation for a moments time. Even Gwydre had stopped his gurgling and gone to sleep in his fathers arms. Then, with an amused smile, Leon spoke up once more.

"A mere ten years ago and I would never have been able to imagine you would one day be telling me what it was like to be a father."

"Yes, well, I was much different back then. A lot can happen in ten years," Arthur said.

"You weren't even king yet, now that I think of it... I think it's unbelievable really, how much has changed in such a span of time," Leon confessed.

"Yes, I think we can agree I was a pompous and arrogant prince for a time."

Leon smiled softly knowing all too well how foolish of a prince Arthur had been. Only ever seeking his father's approval while keeping up the appearance of a rude young man - who although never abused them - was completely unfair to his servants. This also brought up how Arthur began to change. Leon could remember how Arthur never managed to keep a servant for any longer than three weeks. In fact, three weeks had been a record...

Then a bumbling idiot had walked into Camelot and stood up to the prince, not even knowing he was one. When that very same idiot saved Arthur and was given the position as his manservant, Leon had expected him to be gone in under a week, but the lad had reached a new record. A record, he might add, that continued to grow as four weeks turned into four years. Four years then turned into ten and by that time they were finally discovering there was more to that manservant than met the eye.

"You've come far, sire. We all have." Leon said instead of mentioning Merlin. However, the king then brought up the warlock himself.

"I fear if Merlin hadn't come along things would be very different right now. I might still be a prat. Or, as Merlin would probably say, at least a bigger prat than I am now... But then, I'd actually be dead ten times over by now if it weren't for him."

At this point, Arthur's smile had faltered wondering if the idiot would be alright. Percival, seeming to have read the king's mind, spoke up.

"Merlin will be fine, Arthur. He's stubborn if anything else, he'll get over whatever kind of sickness this is."

"He better," was all Arthur said in response.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello, fellow humans! I want to send out a gigantic thanks for all the amazing reviews, favorites, and follows! They make me so damn happy, so truly, thank you.**

**And I know that sounds kind of like something I would say at the end of a fic ~ but It's not!**

**I was originally planning on doing only one more chapter, but things have changed, so there should be more updates on the way! ^_^ That's all for now. Please read, enjoy, and review! Much love ~**

***Rides away on dragon***

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Things had been quiet in Camelot. There was no longer the resounding echo of banter drifting through the castle halls or the happy feeling of magic flowing through the very air. No, it was silent. The nobles and servants still talked and laughed, roaming the corridors and the streets. Only, against the way things appeared to look and sound it was, indeed, quiet. Void of energy, the kingdom felt, everyone's smiles half as bright as they would normally be. Because everyone knew, and even when they tried to be happy for his sake, the people could not help but feel grief when they thought of the court warlock. Grief and dread for what might happen... They heard the rumor, quickly turned fact, that the gangly man they had all come to adore was struggling - fighting with every last bit of his strength - to stay alive.

It was only one month ago that the main focus of the kingdom had been on the new prince. Everyone had been overjoyed about the birth of Prince Gwydre. People cheered and smiled, taking part in the happiness that the king and queen seemed to simply give off as they stood upon the balcony, Gwydre held in Guinevere's arms. Only, behind that joy and excitement the people of Camelot knew something was amiss. It could have been the worried look that passed over the kings face every now and then or they way the queen's features became slightly sad whenever young Prince Amr asked her something - the people later suspecting it was as to why the court warlock wasn't there. However, most of the people began thinking there was truly something wrong when Merlin failed to make an appearance at the celebrations, his usual spot beside the king, empty. There had been suspicions of the warlock being ill, but how severe as to keep him away from such a joyous occasion, the people did not know.

[^-^]BREAK[^-^]

Sir Gwaine was where he had usually sat himself for the past month, if not needed at training sessions, by Merlin's bedside keeping vigil over the sickly man. It seemed like just yesterday when all these problems started, Gwaine thought. Yet it was, in actuality, two months since Merlin had first fallen ill and over one month now since Gaius discovered what was really wrong. The knight felt angry because it was meant to be a happy day, the day the second prince was born, and he had spent the entirety of the celebration, of which he would normally spend with a drink in hand and a smile on his face, tending to Merlin with Gaius.

"What could you have possibly done to deserve this, my friend?" Gwaine asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Then he thought back to the day the knight didn't know whether to feel happy or upset about. The day Gwydre was born as well as the day Merlin's condition changed for the worse.

* * *

Gwaine and Gaius had just gotten Merlin back to his chambers and put him on the bed. The warlock had passed out and his temperature was far above normal. The knight was already worried but when Gaius went to action with tending to his patient, he had seemed... What was it?

_Fretful_.

Yes, Gwaine remembers Gaius' actions becoming shaky, almost nervous, as if he were afraid. Which, of course, made the the knight even more concerned.

Gwaine had stood and watched on, silently, as Gaius looked Merlin over. The physician had a look in his eyes, Gwaine had also noticed, that seemed both full of worry and determination and something else - something else akin to surprise. Although, Gwaine could hardly fathom why at the time.

"Gaius -" Gwaine began.

"Dampen that rag at the end of the bed, please, Sir Gwaine," Gaius ordered softly. "We must keep him as cool as possible."

"Gaius, what's wrong with him?" Gwaine tried again while doing as the physician told him to. "And do not say he simply exerted himself. You and I both know there is something else going on."

Gaius took the cloth from Gwaine and applied it to Merlin's fiery brow. He let out a sigh before responding, his gaze never straying from where he had it placed upon his boy - the son he never had.

"I had suspected... But I couldn't be sure. Not until now. His fever rising as it did was a concern in in itself but then I noticed the blood."

"The blood?!" Gwaine exclaimed, surprised and worried.

"Yes, coming from his ear, here," Gaius said while pointing to Merlin's head where a thick line of liquid slid from his left ear. "And this can be caused by different things but what, do you see, is different about this than with other cases?"

"The blood's black..." Gwaine murmured both mesmerized and horrified by the sight of it. He'd never seen anything of the sort.

"Correct," Gaius said with another sigh, this one far more sad than the last.

"So what does that mean exactly?"

"It means this _is_ a magical illness, one that I - like I said - suspected of causing Merlin to be as sick as he has been... I shouldn't have ignored it, but I did, probably in hopes that I was wrong. Only, it would have hardly made a difference. Because if it is what I believe it to be, there is no known cure."

"What does it do...?" Gwaine asked almost hesitantly.

"It is slowly eating away his own magic," Gaius responded.

"But Merlin is magic. You told us yourself when we found out about him that Merlin was born with it! That it runs through his veins like blood does in ours!" Gwaine took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing slowly, dreading the response he would receive, "so what does that mean for - for him?"

"It means, Sir Gwaine, that Merlin is dying," Gaius said, his voice sounding older and more full of despair than Gwaine had ever heard it.

Gwaine remembered the horrifying, empty feeling he had felt in the pit of his stomach when Gaius' words finally got through to him. It had felt like all the air was knocked out of him, leaving him breathless as he realized the implications of what the physician said. Merlin was dying.

_Merlin_ was dying.

* * *

That was a month ago, however, and the warlock was still staying strong - or as strong as possible anyway. Although, Gaius had said that it was slow acting, so it was really unclear as to how much fight Merlin had left in him.

Gwaine wasn't the only one worrying about Merlin either. Definitely not. Arthur was probably more distressed about the whole situation than anyone, but it was hardly surprising considering the bond between him and the warlock. It was also the most difficult for him to actually cope with his feelings, but not for the same reason as it would have been some years ago. Once upon a time Arthur would have had trouble dealing with his emotions because of his need to keep up appearances and make it seem as though he didn't care when, truthfully, he was screaming on the inside. However, Arthur had long since stopped trying to hide what he was really feeling when it came to Merlin. After the whole initial magic reveal that had, at the time, left Merlin once again fighting for his life, the king very rarely made up excuses in attempt to look as though he wasn't concerned for the man. Magic wasn't the only thing revealed that day, because Arthur and Merlin had also seemed to truly realize just how much they meant to each other. _It took them long enough_, Gwaine thought, _the stubborn idiots_.

No, Arthur was having trouble expressing just how upset he was about all of this because he was still extremely happy at the same time. His second son had just been born, he was supposed to be excited. Only, the world had a sick sense of humor and decided it would be lovely to see everyone confused as to how to feel. Should they be worried about Merlin's condition, or exhilarated about the birth of the new prince? It had seemed to be a common question among everyone for the past month.

Everyone did their best to balance out both their concern and happiness - improving at the skill the more time went on. There were, however, two people who felt both but only expressed one. Gwaine himself, who stayed with Merlin more than any other and had hardly smiled or laughed since Merlin got worse. Then there was Gwen. She smiled, laughed, carried her new son with pride, and refused to express her own distress about the situation. The two of them created something of a structure for everyone else, the sad and happy sides of everything, allowing the others to be less confused.

It all left the kingdom at somewhat of a standstill, however. Only, they couldn't afford to have it be as such with the sorcerer still attacking outer villages. Ealdor had even been targeted, everyone thankfully getting out alive with only a few minor injuries to speak of. The residence of said village came to seek shelter in Camelot, Hunith along with them. As awful as the circumstances were, the royal couple were extremely thankful to have Hunith there with them, and not only because Merlin needed all the support and love he could get. It was also because Merlin's skill in sensing magic had been spot on and Gwydre had quickly set to using it.

Hunith had said it wasn't nearly as much magic as Merlin had possessed at that age, but it was magic nonetheless and Gwen and Arthur had no idea how to manage it. So the court warlock's mother immediately stepped up and showed them some of the tricks she had picked up along way while raising Merlin.

"He'll still be a lot of work, and you'll more often than not have him still moving things around the room, but it's not impossible to manage it," she had said with a kind smile.

Whenever Hunith wasn't tending to Merlin or simply sitting beside him as Gwaine did, she was helping Gwen take care of Gwydre. The queen had even suggested Hunith simply take up the position of nursemaid, which the farm woman very surprisingly agreed to. She had always refused to remain in Camelot in the past, insisting Ealdor had always been her home, but with her old house destroyed now anyway and her ailing son to think about, she decided that it was perhaps time for a change. Everyone was really quite glad she decided to stay. If Merlin knew what was going on, he'd probably be too. He always was worrying about his mother.

Gwaine thought the selfless idiot would probably be wondering if she was getting everything she needed, if he was coherent enough, even though he's the one on his death bed.

No. Not his death bed. Why did he have to think that, Merlin's going to be fine.

"You probably would though, wouldn't you? If you would just wake up... You'd ask if Arthur and Gwen were handling Gwydre well enough and if your mother is being looked after and given everything she needs... Yeah, I'm pretty sure you would," the knight told his friend who, with little surprise, made no movement besides the shaky rise and fall of his chest.

Gwaine removed the white cloth from Merlin's forehead and dipped it in the bucket of cool water next to the bed before wringing it out. It was something of a routine, if it could be called that. He'd come and sit beside his friend and talk about everything and nothing while keeping the rag, used to calm Merlin's fever, cold enough to actually do its work.

Gwaine wrung it out one more time and then dabbed Merlin's cheeks, flushed red from from the fever, before placing it on his forehead once again. The knight couldn't help but notice Merlin's reddened cheeks were the only color he seemed to have left upon his skin as the rest of it looked dead-like. He was certainly pale as a corpse and the dark circles under his eyes did nothing to help that. Merlin had also become thinner, his already prominent cheek bones were even more noticeable and if he were to stand, his shirt would more than likely slide off his shoulders.

So engrossed in applying the damp cloth to Merlin's burning skin, Gwaine didn't even realize as Hunith walk in and sit across from him. She took up her son's hand in her own and began to hum a soft melody. The noise had Gwaine shifting his eyes up, slightly startled, to see who it was. He gave a small smile at the sight of the warlock's mother.

"Good morning, Hunith."

"Good afternoon actually," Hunith corrected with a grin. "I brought you lunch. It's on the table."

"Ah, what would we do without you, Hunith, really? I'm starved!" Gwaine said while standing up on stiff legs to walk over toward where the tray of food was placed. "Thank you."

"It's the least I can do. You and everyone else have been taking such good care of my boy," Hunith sniffed, her gaze shifting to Merlin's frail hand within her small one. "It's the least I can do," she repeated.

"He would do the same for us and more," Gwaine said quietly before taking a bite out of the chicken on his plate.

"I am grateful all the same and I'm very glad he has such wonderful friends. Such a wonderful family. He was always so alone as a young boy, so different from everyone else and not just because of his magic. He grew up with so little, and now look at him, surrounded by the greatest riches a man can have. Friends. And great ones at that."

Gwaine swallowed and looked at her, the worrying mother, before smiling again at a certain memory, involving a tavern brawl and flying plates, and then he spoke up again.

"Merlin was my first friend... He - he didn't treat me like dirt because of how I chose to live my life at the time. He just kind of accepted me. Merlin's just friendly like that. He's so bloody optimistic and selfless, always having a smile on his face, even when he's hurting, all for the sake of others. He'll do anything for any one of us. I'm proud to say he is my best friend."

A few tears slipped from Hunith's eyes and ran down her cheeks. She squeezed Merlin's hand tighter and rubbed the pad of her thumb across his pale skin.

"He's so special, my Merlin. He's lost so much and all for the sake of others. He doesn't deserve any of it - any of the pain that he endures - and I don't understand why this must happen to him," Hunith let out a choked sob. "W-why him? Why must the world b-be so cruel to my boy? My beautiful boy..."

She was openly crying now, tears streaming down her face. Gwaine quickly got up and went to her side and wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she sobbed. He let a few tears of his own fall knowing she was right, Merlin didn't deserve this.

"He'll be fine. Gaius is still searching for a cure. He'll be fine," he said, attempting to comfort her. Nothing, however, seemed to stop her tears now.

So Gwaine just held her, because he knew Merlin wouldn't want his mother to cry like this, not alone anyway. His arms tightened around her. He'd make sure she would be alright, for Merlin.

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Arthur was in a somewhat foul mood. Merlin had only worsened in the past few weeks and Gaius had yet to come up with something. The old man was also working himself to the bone to find a cure and having found Gaius that morning, slumped over his books fast asleep, added to Arthur's already disgruntled day. Because, if he were being honest, it frightened him to see the physician so weary and exhausted. The king didn't want Gaius falling ill as well.

Then, after having woken Gaius and practically having to order him to move to his bed as to rest for the day, he had walked into the nursery to find a wooden toy knight flying straight at him. If it weren't for his fast reflexes Arthur might just be without an eye. Hunith and Gwen were trying to calm a crying Gwydre, who in his fitful state was causing toys to shoot around the chambers at random. It was hard to imagine Merlin was worse than this at Gwydre's age.

Oh, yes, and there was Merlin. His advisor, court warlock, and best friend who lay sick in bed, wasting away. The warlock hadn't woken in some time and it was difficult getting him to eat anything let alone healthy, filling meals. _He was getting better too_, Arthur thought sadly, _and then the idiot goes and does this to us_.

No, he couldn't think like that. This was hardly Merlin's fault, he had no choice in this. He wanted to blame something though, maybe blame the knights, or blame the cook, hell, he might as well blame the servants. Only it wouldn't make him feel any better and it was childish to go around blaming it on people when it wasn't actually _anybodies_ fault. Then again he could always blame it on a training dummy and swing his sword at it, make it pay for doing this. At least then he'd being doing something - anything - but sitting around and hoping for the best. Only, that'd be a foolish thing to do, wouldn't it?

Of course, he had done it before. Many times in fact, when someone he cared about was hurting and he couldn't do anything to help. It was stupid really, but the training dummy was better than the cook or the servants.

Besides, he was doing something. Running a kingdom. Attending council meetings, training knights, making plans on how to deal with evil sorcerers still bent on killing him.

Maybe he should blame the kingdom, because it did keep him away from actually seeing Merlin. Ah, but that would be unfair as well. He had responsibilities as king, everyone knew that. It still didn't make it any easier.

"Father!"

The king was snapped from his confusing thoughts by the sound of Amr's voice coming from behind him.

"Amr," Arthur breathed, as he crouched down so his son could jump into his awaiting arms. Amr seemed to ground him and make everything seem alright if only for just that moment.

"I've been looking for you everywhere!" Amr giggled.

"Have you now? What for?"

"I wanted to see Uncle Merlin. Please, father."

Arthur let out a sigh but realized he hadn't been to see the warlock yet that day either.

"Alright, let's go," Arthur said, picking Amr up and hefting him onto his shoulders. His own father had given him similar shoulder rides when he was Amr's age, but it was alway in the confines of his bed chambers where no one would see. Arthur never cared about such things and quite often found himself giving his son shoulder rides through the corridors of the castle.

Amr told Arthur about his day as they walked to Merlin's room, the child at one point saying that he couldn't wait for his uncle to wake up so he could tell him as well. Arthur felt his stomach roll slightly when his mind betrayed him by thinking what would happen if Merlin _weren't_ to wake up.

They were almost there when Arthur paused to listen. _What was that noise_? He walked closer but didn't enter the chambers.

It was someone crying. Sobbing actually. He took note that it sounded like Hunith.

Arthur set Amr down and told him to wait before cracking the door open ever so slightly as to see who was inside. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Hunith practically holding onto Merlin's entire arm, clinging to it like it was the only thing keeping the warlock from floating away. Then, at her side, with his arms tightly wrapped around her, was Gwaine. The knight was being the gentlest Arthur had ever seen him as he shushed the hysteric woman and rested his chin atop her head as to better embrace her. If Gwaine weren't there Arthur might've feared Hunith would shake herself apart.

"Is grammy going to be okay," Amr asked innocently from below Arthur and the king realized that the child had sneaked a peek into the room as well. Arthur remembered how Amr immediately concluded that if Merlin was his uncle that made Hunith his grandmother and continued to call her as such. Hunith didn't mind in the slightest, in fact, she actually thought it was adorable and stated that she probably wouldn't have any grandchildren otherwise, knowing Merlin.

"I hope so," Arthur murmured, taking his son's hand and leading him away, shutting the door quietly. "But we'll have to visit Uncle Merlin another time..."

They walked toward the nursery, in which Arthur knew he'd find Guinevere. Things became silent, almost dreadfully so. That silence didn't break until they were almost upon their destination.

"He'll be alright," Amr muttered.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"He'll be alright," Amr repeated, louder this time. "Uncle Merlin will be alright, so you shouldn't worry."

"Yeah, he will won't he? I should of known that."

Amr smiled, "you were just being silly."

"I guess I was," Arthur smiled back. Then, finally reaching the nursery, he pushed the door open and walked inside, shutting it behind him. The smile on his face disappeared at what greeted him.

Guinevere was suspended in the air, back up against the far wall, crying and yelling. A man - or a woman for all Arthur knew - whose face was hidden by the hood of his black cloak, had Gwydre in his arms, the baby fast asleep. Arthur quickly pushed Amr back and drew Excalibur from its sheathe.

"Who are you?" Arthur questioned.

The intruders head snapped toward Arthur.

"My name is Cenewig, and it's a pleasure to formally meet you, at last. I have been eagerly awaiting the moment I would see your face when I announced I am the sorcerer attacking the villages on the outskirts of Camelot. I must admit this a little different than what I had planned, less extravagant, but it's just as fun as I expected it to be," the man - yes, man - said.

"F-father...?" Amr said shakily, clinging onto the back of Arthur's shirt. The king shushed him, still looking at the man holding his other son.

"Why? Magic is now free, what more could you want?" Arthur asked, hiding his growing anxiety.

Guinevere, still up against the wall, being held there by magic no doubt, had gone silent. However, her worry for her children was not calming and she still struggled against whatever hold this sorcerer had on her. Said sorcerer chuckled at her attempts before responding to Arthur.

"I want magic to be in complete control! I want everyone who doesn't have magic to live in fear as we had to for so long! I want magic to rule!"

"You have no right to the throne," Arthur stated.

"No, but I never said _I_ wanted to take the throne, did I? However, your precious son here," Cenewig shifted Gwydre in his arms. "He does. He also has magic. So, if he's raised the right way, I do believe he'll fit the role of king quite nicely."

"You can't have him!" Gwen shouted.

"Oh, I think I can," Cenewig said.

The king saw the sorcerers eyes flash gold beneath his hood before every window in the room shattered, glass flying in every direction. Arthur swung around to act as a human shield for Amr but did not miss as Cenewig cast a spell and disappeared in a swirl of smoke, Gwydre with him. They were gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: *Pops head out from behind tree* Oh, hello there!**

**It hasn't been too long, has it...? Alright, alright, I shamefully admit it's been longer than intended. Apologies. I'll go lock myself in the stocks later if that will make you all feel better. I've been struggling with my anxiety lately, you see. It was already bad but the past week as been panic after panic attack. But here I am - finally :3**

**Anyways, I present you all with chapter four! 'Tis a little on the rough side and a bit short. I had written brainstorming notes, hated all my ideas, tore those up, wrote some more, and repeated that process about two more times. I usually write short fics that I make up and develop as I go, but this story has become far longer than I originally planned it to be so it does require a bit more work. This is me slowly and grudgingly improving as a writer - which makes feedback wonderful, by the way.**

**Gods, I'm rambling. Another apology!**

**Just read now... Like now... Please start reading before I keep talking! I beg of thee!**

**Enjoy! *Flies away on dragon***

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They were gone.

Merlin woke with a start, shooting up in bed and gasping for air. There was magic - he could sense it with every fiber of his being - and it was powerful. A teleportation spell? Yes, it must be.

"Merlin," Hunith breathed, her eyes wide with surprise. Gwaine, who sat with one arm still wrapped around the woman's shoulders, looked equally as shocked.

Merlin didn't have time to bother with them, however. He was pinpointing the magic. It was moving, whoever it was seemed to be leaving, heading out of Camelot. The warlock just had to intercept it. It wasn't just one person though, there were two energy forces teleporting, that much Merlin was certain. Only, one of the souls was smaller, new, fresh, while the other seemed old and beaten, filled with underlying hatred. He thought he recognized the first one, only he couldn't pinpoint from where. Everything seemed hazy and out of place, as if the air had shifted. There were minor changes in the things around him, not physically, but he could sense it. How long had he been asleep?

"Merlin? Look at me, Merlin," Hunith practically begged, willing her gasping son to turn his head and face her. He was panting and his eyes were wide and dancing around the chambers as if searching for something. The boy had just woken after having been unconscious for the past month, the small bouts of time he was awake were spent in delirium but never did he have the strength to sit up like this. "Merlin, please look at me."

The warlock's eyes seemed to grow wider.

"Merlin?" Gwaine said, reaching out to grip the man's thin, bony shoulder. However, he was startled back as Merlin turned to look at them suddenly, although, the knight had a feeling he wasn't really seeing them.

"The throne room," Merlin whispered before his eyes flashed gold and he disappeared.

"Merlin!" Hunith shouted reaching forward only to touch nothing but air. "We need to find him, something's wrong!"

"He said the throne room," Gwaine murmured.

"You think that's where he went?"

"It's our best bet. Go find Arthur, he'll want to know. I'll meet you there."

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Hunith ran down the corridor to the nearby chambers of the king. She was lost and afraid, wondering if her boy would be alright. Things had become so confusing as of late. Or, really, they had become very clear - it was her emotions that felt like they were everywhere.

She had lost her home and what little she owned because of a sorcerer who, for whatever reason, wanted to wreak havoc when there was no reason to. She took it as a sign, however, and decided to stay in Camelot. With her son dying and the king and queen needing help with young Prince Gwydre, how could she not? Yes, she both needed and wanted to stay, but watching her son waist away over the past month caused her great pain. Then she's sobbing in Sir Gwaine's arms, babbling about how unfair life is to her boy, and said boy wakes up looking crazed and sickly but with a sudden air of strength about him that she hadn't seen since coming here. She had to find Arthur and get him to the throne room. Something was going on and they needed to find out what.

However, when she questioned the guards outside, upon her arrival, they told her he wasn't inside. Her next stop was obviously the nursery. She expected the entire family to be inside, probably struggling to control one of Gwydre's fits, but what she found there instead was nothing like what she expected. Gwen as on the floor, a sobbing mess, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Arthur, looking teary eyed himself, was beside his son and checking him over. Amr who was shaking in what seemed to be fear.

"What's happened?" Hunith asked, gliding over to Guinevere. She checked the queen for any injury to only fall short.

"He - He just took him," Gwen cried. "He's gone... He's gone!"

Hunith embraced Guinevere, rubbing what she hoped to be comforting circles on her back.

"Wh-who...?" She asked hesitantly.

"The sorcerer, the one who has been destroying the villages, he's taken Gwydre," Arthur explained blankly while taking Amr into his arms as the child began to cry.

"Oh, Merlin," Hunith murmured softly, connecting two and two together. She took hold of Gwen's hand and pulled her up onto her feet before turning to face Arthur. "I believe we best go to the throne room, sire."

"What's happened?" Arthur asked.

"I'm not certain. Merlin woke up suddenly, and before we knew it, he had teleported himself away after mumbling something about the throne room."

The first thing to run through the king's mind was that Merlin had woken up and actually spoken something coherent. The second thing was that he used magic - magic that was already weak and dying - and had teleported himself away much like Cenewig had. He nodded in understanding and then took Amr's hand before leading the way to the throne room. This sorcerer had just taken one of his sons, his family, and he had no idea what to do. This, however, was a start. A confusing, unexpected start, but a start nonetheless. Merlin had gone to the throne room, so it's where they would begin.

[^-^]BREAK[^-^]

Merlin landed on the floor with a hiss, pain erupting throughout his entire body. He had fallen in an undignified heap, his scrawny limbs twisted beneath himself, and clothes messily wrapped around his body. It was quite the job getting up and off the floor, he realized gloomily as he struggled to stand. It wasn't until he was finally on his feet, however, that he looked up and noticed he was actually in the throne room.

"Interesting," Merlin mumbled, his voice raspy. "I didn't think that would work."

A baby's cry disrupted the silence that had settled into the air and Merlin quickly turned around. His gaze landed on the other occupant within the room. He could sense the same magic as before, the magic that had awoken him. This was a sorcerer, most certainly. Merlin had intercepted his teleportation spell. The babe in the man's arms was a bit unexpected, however, Merlin had to admit. There was also that second energy again - so familiar - but where was the owner. Oh, wait, the baby... It couldn't be. Only it was.

Gwydre.

He was older than the last time Merlin had seen him. Not by much, but enough for Merlin to notice the difference. The child's magic had already started being used as well. He should be with Gwen, Arthur, or a nursemaid, not in the arms of a stranger within the throne room. What was this man doing with the second prince?

"Who are you?" Merlin asked timidly. Whoever it may be, they could not possibly mean well.

Cenewig chuckled, impressed the warlock was able to talk and stand let alone stop his leaving the city. Although, it shouldn't surprise him. This was the Emrys of prophecy, Morgana's doom and King Arthur's supposed savior. It seemed he had underestimated Camelot's Court Warlock. So, after the quick mutter of a spell to put the child in his arms back to sleep, he removed the hood from his head and really looked at the man said to be the greatest magic user in existence. It was a pitiful sight to behold.

Merlin was pale - deathly so - and could not even hold himself up straight. Where laying like a corpse in bed he seemed small under all the large blankets, he now looked even more skeletal, fit to fall apart at any moment. He was skin and bones. How he was still standing, what with his body shaking as it were, was a mystery.

"My name is Cenewig," the sorcerer responded simply. Hadn't he already done this once today?

Merlin studied him as well for a moment. The man was tall and slender, much like himself, but his skin was not nearly as pale. Cenewig's hair were a deep brown and his eyes an even darker shade of the color. His trousers were dark, nearly black, and his shirt was a faded gray. A thinly woven, rope necklace was tied around his throat, a blue gemstone in it's center. Merlin's gaze did not remain on the sorcerer for much longer, however, and soon fell to the bundle in his arms.

"What are you doing?" He questioned.

Cenewig sighed yet, Merlin noticed, the malicious smirk upon his face did not disappear.

"So many questions and such little time," he said with an exaggerated roll of the eyes. He adjusted the prince in his arms. "I've really got things to do, you see."

"Return Gwydre and you can go then," Merlin suggested, swaying on his feet slightly.

"You know, I don't think I will," Cenewig shrugged.

The warlock, upon hearing his response, prepared his magic, readying himself to fight if needed. The magic, however, felt weak and fragile. It pitter-pattered lightly within his body, so different to its usual strong but soft pounding.

"Please," Merlin said, voice wavering slightly. "I do not wish to fight."

Cenewig let out another short, almost menacing, laugh.

"You only say as much because you can't fight," he said.

Merlin was about to respond when he heard running from outside the room and a shout of his name. Not much later the doors were flying open and Gwaine and Percival were there, swords raised. Behind them stood a shaking Hunith and Arthur.

Gwaine had tried to be faster, he really had, but running into Percival, Leon, and a servant - Charlie was his name - who had his arms full of armor was not helpful. He had simply turned a corner and there they were, chatting about the use of sleeves of all things! The armor Charlie was carrying fell just as the actual servant had, and then scattered about some. While muttering frustrated apologies Gwaine helped them pick up as quickly as possible, explaining why he was in such a rush to Percival and Leon in the process. Then Arthur came around the corner looking distraught to say the least. Hunith was right behind him as well as Gwen. Amr was holding onto his father's hand for dear life. They all shared similar looks of worry.

Next, Arthur argued with Gwen to have her take Amr to the royal chambers and stay there, the queen relenting far quicker than usual before leaving to do as she was told. Leon followed after her for some form of protection as the rest of them headed to the throne room, the king filling them in on the way.

When they barged into the room, they hardly expected Merlin standing up and trying to fight.

"Oh look, the rest of the family has come to join us. Well, almost the rest of them," Cenewig said, the evil grin upon his lips growing.

Merlin took a shaky step forward, fingers twitching in anticipation to use whatever magic he could to defend his friends. Unfortunately Cenewig caught sight of him and quickly shot a spell his way, throwing Merlin back against the wall.

"Look at how pathetic you are, Emrys. All because of a curse I cast on you. You've been bested by a simple sorcerer, although, I suppose I'm not that simple," Cenewig said.

"You're the one who made him sick," Hunith gasped. Cenewig didn't respond. He didn't need to.

"You bastard!" Gwaine growled before charging forward, sword raised. If this man was responsible for Merlin's illness, that meant he was killing him. The knight was blinded by rage at the very implications.

The sorcerer only looked bored as he said a spell and a shield of sorts appeared as a barrier around the knights, the king, and the mother of Emrys.

Gwaine hit against it with both his fists and his sword, but it didn't seem to budge in the slightest. Neither did it show the implications of doing so when Percival and Arthur tried the same.

"I would have let you stay here as you died, Emrys. Amongst loved ones. Only, it seems I had underestimated you and I can't have you finding a way to stop my plans - no that just wouldn't do - so I suppose I'll have to take you as well," Cenewig explained to the warlock as he walked towards him. He ignored the shouts and curses being sent at him from the other side of his magic barrier.

Merlin, on the other end of things, gasped for air as he struggled to crawl away from Cenewig. His magic was too weak now. He could hardly feel it anymore. There was nothing he could do as the sorcerer grabbed his arm and began incanting another teleportation spell. Before he knew it, he was being taken away, his vision going black as he slipped into oblivion.

In the throne room, Arthur found himself collapsing to his knees as Hunith let out a sob behind him and Percival tried to calm a raging Gwaine. The barrier had disappear and with it Cenewig, Merlin, and Gwydre. The king allowed a single tear to fall as the reality of the situation finally took hold.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: H-Hello everyone... It's so bright out here a-and the air is so fresh... Was I really away that long?**

**Yes, yes, I know - I've been forever. Oh, and what do I come back with? A frustratingly too short chapter! It was so difficult to put together, I don't know why! I fear... I'm coming down with writers block! Dun, dun dun! No but seriously, I am very disappointed in this chapter and I despise the ending to it. I just _needed _to give you guys something!**

**AH, but I'm here, nonetheless. I beg for your forgivness as I truly didn't mean to take so long. Between school, my annoying anxiety attacks every day, and my very awful habit of procrastination, it has been over a month... I feel so terrible. I've always been an awkward human, but now I'm an awkward _and _evil human.**

**I hope I can get the next chapter to you far more swiftly than this! Thank you so, so, so much for all previous reviews! I love you guys! Enjoy and please review some more. See you next time!**

***Flies away on dragon***

* * *

Merlin awoke with the most irritable pain in his head, the constant throbbing easily being related to the feeling that might just appear if ones skull was to be hit consistently with a mallet. It wasn't just his head that ached either, his entire body felt as though it were burning, his very limbs catching fire with every move he made. Even Merlin's lungs protested each inhale and exhale, pain flaring throughout his chest with every breath. It was agonizing and, Merlin had to admit, most certainly a terrible way to wake up. When, however, the warlock managed to fully open his eyes, his vision first out of focus and hazy before becoming clear, he found himself rather confused. He wasn't in any room of Camelot of which he'd seen (and he'd seen nearly all of them).

He was about to attempt sitting up, even if it _was _a terrible idea, but before he could even try and move his arms the distinct sound of a baby crying drifted through the room. It sounded as if it were coming from outside the chambers and down the hall, but it was there nonetheless and it brought a sudden memory to Merlin's mind. An image of Camelot's throne room came in a flash as well as the worried, concerned faces of Arthur, Gwaine, Percival, and... His mother. Yes, she was there too, he recalled. Gwydre was in trouble, as well as himself. He was sick, dying because of a curse that a sorcerer had put on him. The very same sorcerer who was trying to take the second prince from Camelot. Instead, the man managed to take them both.

Merlin let his head fall back to the pillow from where he had momentarily lifted it. No wonder it didn't look anything like Camelot, he had been taken! Although, why he was in a comfortable bed and not rotting in some dungeon, he had no idea.

He needed to get out of here nonetheless, with Gwydre as well, but each and every attempt to sit up ended in a pained fall back to the mattress. He simply didn't have the strength to get up, no matter what he tried. He couldn't even call upon his magic to help him. So he let himself lean back and rest his head on the pillow, a deep, aching sigh escaping his lips. Gwydre was _his _family, _his _responsibility. Merlin had no clue as to what these people were doing to the second prince but he needed to find a way to return him back to Camelot, back to his parents, where he belonged. Back home. Only, Merlin didn't know how. So all he could do was lay and wait all the while hoping for the best.

As to not let himself fall into complete and utter boredom Merlin took to looking about the room. The chambers were old, the stone walls full of cracks and crevasses. Everything had a find layer of dust upon it, and it smelt old an musty, as though the chambers hadn't been used in many years. He would have thought he were alone if it weren't for the dusted off chair next to his bed and a basin of water on the nightstand.

There was an mirror hanging on the far wall, its edges chipped and glass dirty. Beside it rested a large, oak wardrobe. In the middle of the room, nearby the narrow window, sat a rectangular table of the same wood. Above him was a beautiful, yet torn canopy that was latched onto the swirling, wooden bed posts. The bed itself, in which he laid, was very soft and the head board held an intricate design, clearly indicating this was a nobles room - at some point anyway. However, with still no idea as to where he was and his entire body continuing to protest every movement, he was far from comfortable.

Merlin was about to try and get up again, for the tenth time in the last hour, but was once again interrupted by a noise. Although, this was not a baby's cry, it was the sound of the door's latch being meddled with. Someone was trying to unlock the door.

Merlin prepared himself for the worst. Maybe a giant brute of a man, or an old hag perhaps, Merlin wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the young woman who entered instead was _not _it.

She was a small thing, short, with a slender figure and light skin. She had waist length, dark hair that was tied back in a long braid. Her dress was a soft green, an apron tied around it at the waist, and her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. She had a kind looking face with a button nose and big eyes that shined a light brown. Eyes that, when she caught sight of him staring at her, grew wide with surprise.

"You're awake!" She exclaimed, nearly dropping the platter of food she had carried in. Merlin could only nod in response as he continued to look at her curiously. She walked over to the table and set down the tray before turning toward him.

"I didn't think you'd wake up. Well, I _knew _you were going to wake up, obviously. I just didn't know you were going to wake up so soon - you've had quite a trial, you see - but of course you would have woken up eventually. Everyone wakes up at some time or another, we don't sleep forever, now, do we? Well, unless, I do suppose, we die and then we absolutely never wake up..." The girl rambled while fidgeting with her skirt nervously.

"Where am?" Merlin finally asked, interrupting her. "Where is Gwydre? Who are you?"

She didn't answer right away, as if she were pondering how to answer, and Merlin grew nearly frantic.

"Where is he?" He growled.

"The prince is fine, Emrys! I promise!"

"Are you certain?!"

"Yes, I've been tending to him myself."

"How do you know who I am?"

"Doesn't everyone know who you are?"

Merlin sighed and relaxed slightly. The girl seemed harmless and a quite friendly considering the circumstances, if Merlin were being honest.

"You still haven't answered my other questions."

She smiled lightly, her hands twitching. Merlin realized she seemed awfully insecure and unsure about this entire situation. She opened her mouth in order to speak but stopped herself and spun around, fumbling with the food still upon the table. Then, with a huff, she turned once again to look at him.

"My name is Delwyn," She told him.

Merlin attempted a smile himself, deciding to take pity on the girl who couldn't possibly have an evil bone in her body.

"I suppose that's all you can tell me then...?" He said.

Delwyn hummed before completely meeting his gaze and all went silent for a moment while they looked into each others eyes. Then she nodded and turned her head away, a blush forming on her cheeks as she became terribly uncomfortable. It was most definitely an awkward situation.

"Well, this room could really be cleaned," Delwyn said as to avoid the silence. "I don't know why I haven't gotten to cleaning it yet. I guess the thought of walking around the room with you quiet and asleep in bed was a little odd. The silence tends to bother me."

Delwyn walked across the room and, to Merlin's absolute surprise, mumbled ancient words under her breath. Her eyes flashed a familiar gold as the magic was cast. A broom in the corner of the chambers began sweeping the floor and a cloth on the table dunked itself in some of the water that had been brought in and took to cleaning the window. Merlin let out a small cough as he slightly gasped in shock.

"I should have been able to sense that," he murmured to himself.

"What was that?" Delwyn asked, her voice muffled as she had decided to try and clean under the bed.

Merlin, however, didn't hear her at all. Because even though he had acknowledged his lack of magical power earlier, he had only _just_ realized it wasn't there _at all__. _He was nothing without his magic, he'd die without it! He couldn't feel it, reach it, let alone use it and and Merlin berated himself for not noticing sooner. If his abilities remained unaltered he would have been able to tell that Delwyn had magic. He didn't know what was wrong and soon enough he was practically gasping for air and clawing at the blankets as he fell into a panic attack.

"A-are you alright? What's wrong?" Delwyn said, placing a hand on his shoulder has he began to shake. She was covered in dust, a smudge of dirt also on her small nose, and her hair happened to be entangled with dozens of spider webs. Merlin would have laughed if the situation wasn't so frightening.

"My... My magic," Merlin choked out.

Delwyn's eyes grew wide and she shook her head frantically as she realized what was happening. She almost looked guilty.

"Your magic is fine!" She assured him. "Well, as fine as it can be... Oh, but that doesn't matter, you just can't use it because of the magical wards that Cenewig placed around your room. They prevent you from being able to use your powers."

"But it's still there?"

"Yes," she chuckled as if the idea of him _not _having magic was simply absurd. Which it was, in a way.

However, Merlin then began to cough and all humor was gone. The sudden arrival of Delwyn and confusion of the situation had distracted Merlin from the pain he was still feeling. His body still felt as though it were burning, and the throbbing ache in his head had only worsened. Delwyn lifted his head gently as to get him to sip down some water, but even that small effort alone left him feeling drained of all the energy he seemed to have left.

"I-I have one more q-question," Merlin said, his eyes beginning to droop. Although he was soon to fall asleep again - for who knew how long - he needed to know this one last thing.

"Yes?" Delwyn inquired.

"H-how long has - long has it been?"

Delwyn bit her lip but quickly decided it was information that hardly mattered.

"You've been here almost three weeks." She told him.

And with that, Merlin let the darkness take him.

* * *

Camelot was in complete and utter distress. The court warlock and second prince had been missing for nearly three weeks and there was still no sign of them. Everyone was frantic with worry and the entire kingdom felt the sadness and stress that the inner roundtable group was experiencing. The king and queen were the worst of them, having lost both a brother and son. Arthur had sent out search parties almost immediately, yet still after a fortnight and five days, they had remained clueless as to where they were taken. Gwen had not stopped crying herself to sleep at night and Amr wasn't eating properly as his mind, although young, quickly realized how awful the situation was and missed both his uncle and younger brother dearly. Arthur had attempted to comfort his first son, insisting that Gwydre was absolutely fine and that all would be well soon, but Amr hadn't believed him at all, shedding worry filled tears into his father's shoulder has he cried for his missing family.

Gaius, although fretful, had to keep reminding the knights, as was his job as physician, to take a break and rest. All of them - especially Gwaine - were running themselves to the ground with exhaustion. They had barely stopped searching since the awful day Merlin and Gwydre were taken and they continued to fall short when it came to their location. It was awful, they all concluded, the sinking, dreadful feeling of not knowing where they were or how well off they remained. For all they knew, Merlin could already be dead.

Arthur felt broken inside, lost, unaware of his surroundings, as a tiny piece of his mind slightly chipped and fell off. He'd lost so much, been betrayed by so many, and now he feared he might have lost two of the four most important people in his life. It physically hurt and if it weren't for the fact that he had to keep up appearances, stay strong in the face of his people, than he would have broken down already. He still shed a tear or two while holding a sobbing Guinevere each night, but it was his duty to stay strong, so that is what he did.

However, as days had turned into a week and then that week turned into nearly three, Arthur felt his hope slipping through his fingers. At that point it wouldn't be a surprise if he never again saw Merlin alive and well again. It was also very likely that, in years to come, Gwydre would be a grown young man who was taught to despise him, never becoming the kind prince he could have been but rather a vengeful, evil soul who would use his magic to take Camelot. That frightened Arthur more than he could express.

Perhaps, if that happened, the great King Arthur would be broken forever.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey humans! So, although I've come to you with this faster than the last chapter, it's still been a little while. I'll try to be better about it in the future. Promise! I had some trouble again with this - there is a 5 month time jump in this chapter as well, and hopefully I pulled it off.**

**I remember the good old days in which I updated my fanfictions every single day... Now I'm either too busy or procrastinating like the procrastination queen I am... ^-^ Tee-hee~**

**I do so hope you love and cherish this chapter with all your heart. Or... You know, just like it at least a little bit! xD It is official that this fic has so far received more reviews than any I've ever written, so thank you! Thank you very much! Please keep them coming, I love them so much and they really inspire me to write more. See you all next time!**

***Flies away on dragon***

* * *

[^_^]BEGIN[^_^]

Camelot was in a troublesome time. It had been five long, tiresome months since Merlin and Gwydre had been taken. The knights had yet to cease searching but with every group that went out and returned empty handed just a little more of their hope dwindled. The queen had stopped crying in the night, still hoping that her second son would be returned to her, while preparing herself for the worst and cherishing all her moments with Amr. The first, eldest prince, however, had not yet given in to trying to make the situation normal. His young mind had not fallen to the despair everyone else felt with their crumbling belief that the Gwydre and Merlin were safe and sound. He still cried out for his uncle and brother in the night, begged his father to find them, and talked of all the things he missed about them with his mother and Gaius every chance he received. Arthur, on the other hand, was falling deeper and deeper into a pit grief. Grief for _his _brother and his son. He had even taken to attending some of the patrols and searches, but each and every time just left him feeling more desperate and empty. Gaius was convinced he had fallen into a state of depression, but Arthur denied, being stubborn (which wasn't a terribly awful thing in this case) saying that he was fine.

It was at night, when he was alone except for the ever comforting presence of his wife, that he would cry and beg the gods to return his family to him. In the morning he would wake up tiredly and sleep deprived, but continue on with the day ruling the kingdom as he was meant to and trying not to let the thought that Merlin was dead sting too much.

Hunith continued helping by taking care of Amr and spending time with Guinevere, but there was something about her that was different. It was the same with Gaius as well. They both seemed to fall off into their own world when they thought no one else was looking, gazing at nothing in silence. Percival said something, a small observation he called it, that it was if they were constantly thinking back to every happy memory they had of their boy. It wouldn't surprise everyone if they _were_ thinking about Merlin. There was no on in Camelot who wasn't _not _thinking of him. However, she was the warlock's mother, and he was the warlock's father figure - and there is always something deeper when it comes to a parent's love for their child. It left all the other residences of the castle wondering how the physician and country-woman were really coping with all of it.

However, they all knew, wherever he may be, that Gwydre at least was still living, breathing, and growing. Cenewig had told them his ideas for the future, foolishly, as Gwaine would add. The evil sorcerer planned to raise Gwydre as his own, telling him stories of Camelot and filing the child's head with lies. Gwydre would eventually grow up, having mastered his magic, and come to take over Camelot because he won't know any better. It will be what he was taught.

It was during a trip to the tavern, in the hope to slightly ease their sorrows, that Sir Bedivere had made the comment.

"We'll be older, more scarred, and Cenewig and his goons with come 'n take Camelot with the help of a grown Gwydre. We'll have to fight, of course, but we'll be fighting against the second prince. The man that could have been amazing, special, and certainly kind. The man that we were to teach and to watch grow up, but is trying to destroy us with magic because he was raised by a crazed sorcerer instead..." Bedivere said gloomily, his eyes boring holes into the table at which they sat.

Everyone in their company stopped drinking and cheering in that moment, all of them looking solemn. Gwaine was the only one to once again pick up his drink for quite some time. In fact, the rouged, dark haired knight went through three tankards before the place began to get lively once more.

[^-^]BREAK[^-^]

That wasn't the only moment of which things turned sad at the mention of one of the two members of the royal household.

About two months after Gwydre and Merlin disappeared, Gwaine, Percival, Leon, and Arthur were out on their own separate patrol - just like the good old days. There was something different about it being just them, the inner round table, the remaining few of them whom Arthur trusted more than any of the other knights. They were the original group, or what was left of it, and they were, in more ways than one, a family. However, they were all drained, tired, and completely at wits end. The first two months were most likely the worst, Arthur's temper at its peak.

"We need to stop and rest, sire," spoke Leon, his hair matted to the sides of his face due to perspiration caused by the humidity.

"No, we must continue onward," Arthur ordered, his tone clipped.

"Arthur, mate, we can't go on right now. The horses are dying in this heat and we're all starving," Gwaine tried to reason.

"No, we haven't the time!"

"Oh for the love of... Arthur, stop being such a _prat _and open your eyes! We've been traveling all day, it's time for a rest," Gwaine shot at him angrily. Only after the words left his mouth did his mind finally process what he had said. He then realized how Arthur's back had stiffened and that everyone had stopped moving.

"You can't just... don't you _dare_..." Arthur attempted to speak but all he could get out in the end was a small, chocked cough before he gave into their request. "Fine. We'll rest for an hour."

Gwaine wasn't certain if he was about to shed a few tears or go into a complete fit of rage. It was times like this he had wished, for just a second, that he had never met Merlin, for then he wouldn't be in this much agony. Merlin was the only man he'd ever cried for, even after his own father's death his eyes hardly watered. Only he could never truly believe that, not once, for Merlin changed his life for the better. The warlock gave him something to live for, to fight for, and gave him an new family. He needed to fix this situation, Gwaine knew, so when Percival was tending to the horses and Leon was collecting water, the knight went to sit beside Arthur where he was resting by the river bank.

"I'm sorry," he told the king quietly.

"There's nothing to be sorry for... It's nothing but a word," Arthur whispered.

"Don't say that," Gwaine said heatedly, pointing an accusing finger at the blond. "Don't you dare say 'it's nothing but a word'. That was _his _word, as stupid and annoying as you thought it was. We all loved it, even you, it's what I might even call your true title. The only reason your saying such things is because your upset, but you still have no right to act as if it meant nothing. Like he meant nothing."

Arthur's shoulders, Gwaine realized, were slightly shaking and when the king turned to look at him again his eyes were moist and shined in the light of the sun.

"But if he doesn't come back. If he's gone forever... Then that's all it is, Gwaine. Just a petty word with no meaning."

[^-^]BREAK[^-^]

Since then, however, three more months have gone by and nothing has changed but Arthur's feelings toward things and his way of expressing them. The people quickly realized that the kingdom might never be the same if its court warlock were never to return. Not only that, but the impending doom of what was to befall them if Gwydre were to someday come back and not with friendly means, was still hanging over their heads.

* * *

On the other side of things, the past five months had been nothing but question after question for Merlin. He had only grown weaker, but in the few moments he was awake each day he would try to ask Delwyn something were she within the chambers. It was a challenge for himself, Merlin had to admit, as he had become dreadfully skinny, more so than he already was, and the color of the world around him had begun to fade long ago. Most everything was black and white for him, and it wasn't just his eyesight that had been altered, but also his ears as he had to strain to hear. Merlin's movement consisted of little to nothing. In his state, it was an accomplishment to move a single finger, and a complete surprise if his entire hand were to shift without help. Delwyn would come in nearly every day and speak to him for the five to ten minutes he could remain coherent. She'd stay with him all the time, but only when his eyes opened was Merlin able to tell she was beside him. Her voice was soothing and she often just talked about her day and the many things she'd been doing. All the while she would lift him up slightly and attempt to feed him broth or have him drink some water.

He was glad she was around. If he were to die here, he was happy he'd at least have Delwyn with him to offer some comfort. His only regret was not being able to help Gwydre and save his family one last time.

Delwyn herself enjoyed the time of day she was able to tell Merlin about the goings on around the old castle. She would pat his forehead with a damp cloth and run her fingers lightly through his hair as she spoke. She also got him to eat and drink far more than expected. Delwyn had grown quite fond of him, finally being comfortable around him and not just because he could barely ask her questions anymore that she couldn't answer. He was the first person to ever _want _to talk to her and be nice doing so. He was so kind the first few months he was there, and he still was, when he could be. If only... If only he weren't dying.

"Del-" Merlin wheezed, his voice barely above a whisper. It was a warm summers afternoon and the young woman had opened the windows in his chambers as to let in some fresh air, and Delwyn was standing beside them staring out at the horizon. At the sound of his voice she turned to him and swiftly made her way to his bedside, gently touching the top of his hand where it rested upon the sheets.

"Hello, sleepy-head!" She said cheerily, giving him a smile that she didn't even know if he could see.

Merlin coughed, his sickly frame shaking like a lone leaf in a strong breeze. She wished she could do something, anything to make him more comfortable. Seeing him in this much pain made her heart ache.

"It's alright, quiet now," she shushed him. "Here's some water." With a gentleness you'd think only a loving mother to a newborn could muster, Delwyn lifted the warlock's head and put a cup of cool water to his dry lips. Slowly and steadily she poured the liquid into his mouth and he swallowed roughly.

"Th-Th'nks..." Merlin managed to say.

"You're very welcome, my friend." She told while running her fingers through his damp, ebony locks. He very quickly drifted off to sleep and she let out a sigh before getting up and leaving the room to check on Gwydre.

The baby was resting peacefully in his cradle, another woman who went by the name of Angelica was rocking him back and forth gently. She put her hand inside and placed it upon the babe's soft, chubby cheek and began to rub her thumb across his face. He looked so adorable, she thought. He would be the future Kind of Camelot, the magical king who would change things, but she hardly thought that this was the right way to go about making magic rule. Everything was peaceful as it was, wasn't it? She knew Cenewig was doing what he thought was right, but she didn't want this lovely child to grow up and learn to hate his own family. Perhaps, if she saved Merlin, he might be able to influence Gwydre. She couldn't do this by herself, she knew she couldn't, she needed Emrys.

"I'm not going to let you be without him. He might be able to save you one day," she whispered. "I won't let Merlin die."

[^-^]BREAK[^-^]

Delwyn was on her way to see Cenewig, a plan as to what she could possibly say going through her head. Her mind was running over various different scenarios and what might happen. It wasn't that she was afraid, per-say, but anxious for he might refuse. Oh, but she couldn't think that way, she realized, berating herself for thinking such things. Delwyn had to save Merlin, so this had to go right. In, out, in, out - she took a few deep breaths before entering the room where she knew Cenewig to be. There was laughing and cheering, him and his men probably drinking as they discussed possible obstacles. When she walked in, however, all went quiet.

"C-Cenewig," Delwyn said as she bowed her head in respect. He sat upon the old, battered throne that was within the once magnificent throne room. The castle may have been run down and a bit dusty, but it remained far more lavishing than that of a home to a peasant or even a lord. It would be a perfect place for Gwydre to grow, and the seat in which the sorcerer sat would eventually be his as well. Their future magical king, as some of them would put it. Cenewig's followers sat around him upon the floor, pillows and cushions beneath them, the candlelight illuminating all their faces with a soft glow.

"What is it Delwyn?" He questioned, sounding bored.

"I wish to speak with you alone," she told him, gathering her confidence. "With no one else's eyes or ears open to our conversation."

Cenewig raised an eyebrow, but that was all, before he shooed everyone from the room requesting the doors be closed behind them.

"What, Delwyn, is so important?"

"I... I would like you to release Emrys from the curse."

Cenewig's face grew serious and he stood from the finely crafted chair in order to advance toward the girl. He gripped her upper arm, holding it tightly and pushed her back.

"Why do you ask such a thing?! He is meant to die!"

"Please," Delwyn begged. "He will be able to do no harm as long as he is surrounded by your wards. He is nearly gone now, his body so close to failing him completely. I know you want him dead, but I have enjoyed his company, Cenewig. I ask you to please spare him."

Cenewig scoffed, releasing her arm and trying to calm himself. When he saw her rub her shoulder gently he felt a sense of guilt within the pit of his stomach and took a deep breath in order to ease his nerves and get his emotions under control.

"Besides, would it not be more painful to make him watch as Camelot is taken?" She attempted to appease him.

"Do you realize the risks your asking me to take? Why do care so much for him?"

"He is my friend, and I know the risks, but I beg of you, please allow him to live. I shall be his surety!"

Delwyn pouted and gave a well practiced puppy-dog look as to better improve her chances of him accepting such a request. Cenewig glared at her. He hated when she did this, she knew he couldn't resist. She was far too adorable to deny.

"Don't give me that look..."

"Please. Pretty please," She whined.

"No... No - stop it - no is my final answer."

"Please, Cenewig!"

Goodness, she acted like such a young girl when she wanted something, it was infuriating Cenewig thought.

"Alright, fine! I will release him from the damn curse if it will make you happy. But be warned, Delwyn, if something might happen, it'll be _your_ head." He told her seriously.

"Thank you, thank you!" Delwyn cried happily while jumping forward in order to wrap her arms around him in a hug. Cenewig sighed and patted her back.

"You should stop acting like such a child, your a grown woman."

"Oh, shush," she smiled, letting him go, and began her departure from the room.

"I despise you." Cenewig growled.

"Well, I love you!" Delwyn shot back over her shoulder.

He let out yet another sigh and rolled his eyes.

"I love you too," he mumbled, no matter that she could no longer hear him.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Ah, it feels so good to get this chapter done. I'm really busy this week with school and such other things but hopefully the next chapter should be done soon. **

**Happy mothers day to whomever it applies! If you're reading this and you've got a mother somewhere, happy mothers day to them as well! **

**I hope you all enjoy, please review, and I'll see you next time!**

***Flies away on dragon***

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Hunith was in Gaius' chambers, helping the physician by mixing herbs and creating tonics while he was down in the lower town with some of his patients. She hadn't rested well since her son was taken, constantly working, keeping her hands busy as to keep her mind off things. Horrid things. It seemed that most every night, since Merlin and Gwydre were stolen from their home, she had been having nightmares. Dreadful dreams, from which she could not awaken from until the morning light would come through the windows. Every morning she'd wake with a gasp, drenched in a cold sweat, heart practically beating out of her chest, and would just lay in bed silently for what felt like ages. They tended to have something to do with watching the death of her son, as if her subconsciousness simply wanted to be as cruel as possible, making her see every possible scenario of how her child was killed or tortured. It felt as though it had been forever since the prince and warlock disappeared in a swirl of smoke, Cenewig holding onto them with malicious grin on his face, yet it had only been five and half months. Long, tiring months, she couldn't help but admit, that left everyone with an empty and harsh feeling in their gut for they still held not a single clue as to where Merlin and Gwydre might be. The kingdom had calmed much since its first initial panic. However, even with the subject dying down in its mention, as though it were a fire slowly being put out, people continued to feel the loss and the heat of the coals beneath.

It was awful, Hunith concluded, not knowing whether your only child was dead or alive. She knew he was a grown man, fully capable of taking care of himself on any normal occasion (as well as the entirety of the kingdom), but this was hardly a normal occasion. The last time she had seen him he had barely been strong enough to stand on his own let alone fight off a sorcerer bent on revenge. Only, she couldn't help but imagine him as her baby boy, the young child who would run into their small home crying because the other village children had been cruel to him. So, to think she may never see his smiling face again, the same smiling face that she had loved and cherished since it had been first given to her, scared her beyond imagining.

"Hunith…?" A voice sounded from the door making the woman jump in surprise. The bottles on the table in front of her went crashing to the floor as she swung around to see the one who interrupted her thoughts so suddenly.

Gwaine was standing in the open doorway with a worried look resting upon his features. She placed a hand on her chest and took a deep breath to calm her nerves before giving him a kind, if a bit shaky, smile.

"Gwaine, goodness, you startled me half to death," she said with a small chuckle before staring down at the broken glass around her. "What a mess… I must have been far off in thought to not hear you enter."

Gwaine didn't need to ask to know what her mind had been on and he smiled sadly before walking over to her. Kneeling down before her, he began picking up the shards of glass that lay shattered at her feet.

"You 'ought to be more careful, Hunith."

She hummed in response, wondering all the while when she started letting men half her age tell her what to do.

"Anyways, I came to ask a favor of you."

"What would that be?" Huntih asked with real curiosity.

"We wanted to go out," Gwaine told her, standing and placing the glass on the table top. "And we'd like you to join us. I was wondering if you'd get some food from the kitchens as we might as well eat lunch while we're gone."

"Who is 'we'?" She questioned.

"Come now, Hunith, you know who I mean.

Oh, and she did. More likely than not their group would consist of the inner round table, the king, queen, and Amr. She supposed it would be nice to get out of the castle walls. The halls had begun to feel cramped and enclosed, almost suffocating, and it was perhaps time to enjoy the fresh air for a while. Besides the occasional trip to the market place with Guinevere and Amr, Hunith had hardly left the castle. Gaius hadn't even asked her to go pick herbs and instead requested one of the knights - usually Percival as he was surprisingly good at deciphering plants - to go and collect his needed supplies.

"I'd love to… I'll head to the kitchens now to collect what we need," she agreed.

"I'll tell Percy to have someone prepare our horses and then come give you a hand," Gwaine said before departing from the room with haste.

The knight himself was excited to leave Camelot's walls for something other than a patrol. It would be enjoyable to get out and relax, not having to think about all the bad things that had happened recently. Although, he supposed he was just kidding with himself, for even he knew that all the smiles and laughs their miscellaneous family might share with each other that day would be a facade. For they had all decided to keep looking, yes, but try to move on and prepare themselves for the worst nonetheless. It was time, they agreed, to stop wallowing in their own grief and take a step up, but none of them could forget the sadness and the loss they were all feeling deep inside. Gwaine also knew, that there was still a very small chance that they'd find Gwydre and Merlin may be alive.

Gaius told them about a week prior that if the curse had continued on as it had been that Merlin, even with all his power, would probably have been gone already. If it weren't for his magical ability then he would have died months ago, and it would a miracle if the warlock's heart was beating anymore. They all fell into a melancholy state for a few days after that. Hell, Arthur had barely spoken, only when necessary. It was only a short time ago that they all chose to try again, because Merlin surely wouldn't want them to act like they were.

Still, the searches continued at least once a week in attempts to find Gwydre and very possibly the body of Merlin - dead or alive they still hoped for it. This picnic, however, was going to hopefully be a stepping stone in their process to gain some form of normality in their lives. For it was all they could do.

"Percival!" Gwaine shouted, spotting the large knight across the courtyard. The man turned toward him and gave him a look as if he were asking, 'did she agree?' and held a hopeful smile on his lips. "Hunith said she'd join us. Prepare the horses and gather everyone else. I'm off to the kitchens to help her get some goods."

"My pleasure," Percival said, already walking toward the stables.

Gwaine quickly set off toward the kitchens from which he had stolen many good chicken legs over the years, usually with the help of Merlin. '_Oh, Merlin,_' Gwaine thought sadly. '_You didn't deserve this… I'll take care of them for you, I promise. You're mother especially._'

When he arrived Hunith was already there, humming to herself the same tune Merlin always hummed while working, and packing fruits, sandwiches, and deserts into different satchels. She had a smile on her face but Gwaine could see the sadness in her eyes. He had a feeling this was how it was going to be for some time - a happy exterior but a hollowed out interior. They would get through it, one step at a time, the knight was sure. It was just going to be a lot of work.

"What can I do to help?" He asked, walking up beside her. She jumped at the sound of his voice for the second time that day and spun around to meet his soft gaze.

"You keep scaring the living daylights out of me," Hunith gasped.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said sheepishly before chuckling lightly. Soon, Hunith herself joined in on the short burst of laughter.

"Oh, don't call me ma'am. It makes me feel old," Hunith told him, turning back around and stuffing some more bread into the bag she held in her grasp.

"Well that's because you -" Gwaine began but clamped his mouth shut at the glare she gave him over her shoulder. That eyebrow raise, Gwaine decided, must run in the family.

"You can fill up the water skins, if you don't mind," she then said to him and he nodded in affirmation.

When they were finished they grabbed the three total bags and headed toward the courtyard where the others were waiting for them, horses ready, a fresh breeze running through their manes. Amr was jumping up and down happily, for this was the first time in a long time he was being let out of the safety of the castle. Even if he felt frustrated that his mother wouldn't release her hold on his small hand, he was excited.

"Ready then?" Leon asked Gwaine.

"Food and water packed, horses prepared, I say we're all set," the rugged knight responded.

"Let's go then," Arthur said, helping Amr up onto the saddle in front of Guinevere before mounting his own steed.

They all rode their horses out of the city with a slow pace, taking their time. It was a beautiful day and they were hardly in a rush. Amr began to ask bizarre, child-like questions the entire ride and Leon, who was being asked most of them, answered with many laughs and smiles. The rest of the group enjoyed the peacefulness and joined in on the conversation from time to time or started their own. They continued on this way for quite some time before stopping at the large clearing outside of Camelot, a single tree resting on the hillside that would allow a perfect patch of shade. They dismounted and tied their horses to one of the trees surrounding the field before making their way to the top of the hill in order to unpack.

Amr begged Percival to give him a ride, so the colossal knight scooped up the prince and placed him on his shoulders before running around. The boy's cries of delight and bouts of giggling left a happy feeling in the air. Gwaine and Leon started sparring while Gwen, Arthur, and Hunith sat themselves under the single tree on a large blanket.

The warm, summer air tousled their hair and swept against the blades of grass beneath them. The flowers let off a sweet scent and sang a beautiful melody as they danced in the wind along with the trees high above them. Each and every form of life around them seemed to speak, telling tails of years gone by and whispering to one another about the mysteries of the world. The very earth spoke, sharing secrets and stories with anyone who was willing to listen. The birds flew across the blue sky doing tricks and gliding with an ease and grace that only they could muster. They chirped, singing with the clouds as they floated by, and a deer skipped across the edges of the opening, listening to it all. Arthur sighed.

"This is nice," the king said softly. It was at times like this he remembered out much nature could help one's mind to go calm. He felt more relaxed than he had in a long time, sitting with his back up against the bark of the old tree.

"Indeed it is," Hunith agreed, setting the book she was reading down onto her lap so she could admire the sight before her. Amr was running away from Percival yelling 'you can't catch me' and laughing loudly. Gwaine, who had stopped sparring with Leon for a moments time, jumped in front of the prince and caught him before falling back onto the ground.

"Let me go!" Amr giggled, trying to wiggle out of the knights hold.

"Never! You're mine now!" Gwaine said with his attempt at an evil cackle.

"I'm the prince, and I order you to release me," Amr said, smiling at Gwaine knowing where this game was headed.

"He learned that from you," Leon told the king with a wry smile as he sat down next to him. Arthur merely rolled his eyes before continuing to watch the scene before him. It was true that he saw a part of himself in Amr, and was proud if a bit amused with his son.

"Well, princeling, I challenge thee to a duel!" Gwaine shouted dramatically, standing up and releasing Amr. The prince tapped his chin and puckered his lips pretending to think about it for a moment before picking up a nearby stick.

"Let's duel," Amr agreed. Gwaine picked up fallen branch of his own before charging forward and hitting it off the Prince's battle weapon. The knight went slowly, and hit gently, but made the act believable before letting Amr poke him in the stomach.

"Argh!" Gwaine dropped his 'weapon' and fell to the ground before reaching out to Percival. "Percy… Avenge me." Then he fell limp, feigning death while trying not to laugh.

Percival, who had stood by watching, suddenly stepped forward and picked up Gwaine's discarded excuse of a sword.

Percival and Amr then continued on with the fight.

Yes, Arthur thought, he was most certainly proud.

It was nearly time for the sun to set, hours later after they had eaten and played, that the group returned back to the castle. All of them were tired but happy, and set off to their chambers hoping to get their first good night's rest in a long while. Arthur decided to walk Hunith back to the physician's chambers after making sure Guinevere and Amr were safely on their way to the nursery.

"Today was good, Arthur. Thank you," Hunith said.

"It was Gwaine's idea, no need to thank me."

"Yes, but, it was up to you to decide, I'm sure."

"I think we all needed some time to get out and relax," He told her. They'd all been feeling it, the crushing, suffocating feeling within the castle walls. All their emotions from the past few months had strained Camelot, hurt it beyond compare. No one was certain as to how to feel and Arthur knew that it was time to create a memory in this time that wasn't sad or awful, just plain, happy, and content as it should be. It was what they all needed and when Gwaine had come to him earlier that morning asking if they could go out, Arthur was quick to cancel all their plans for the day.

"Yes," Hunith agreed. "We did, and I thank you for realizing this and helping it all happen."

"It's the least all of you deserve…"

"We hardly deserve anything special, Arthur."

"You do. You all deserve so much, especially with all the work you've been doing lately. I wanted - no, needed to do something for all of you even if it was as little as to allow us to go out on a picnic."

Hunith looked at him with fondness and reached forward to cup his cheek with the palm of her hand. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes with a sigh. Hunith was the closest thing Arthur had ever had to a mother and it was times like this he was reminded of that.

"Oh, Arthur, you don't owe us anything."

"But I do… Because it's my fault - my fault M-Merlin and Gwydre are gone," Arthur said, his voice shaking. He was trying to remind himself not to be weak, to not let his emotions out, but this was Hunith, and he couldn't hold in the tears anymore. Ever since Gaius had informed them of his thoughts on Merlin, Arthur had been holding it in, not daring to believe his best friend and brother was gone, dead. He hadn't shed a single tear, or given in to grief. He simply was. He woke, ate, slept, and participated in his kingly duties without so much as a thought. However, he soon realized it was because he blamed himself, and that hurt too much for him to deal with.

"Arthur, it wasn't your fault. It was no one's fault but Cenewig's," Hunith assured him, wiping his fresh tears away with her thumb. He didn't want to cry, but he couldn't stop now.

"But if I had been quicker…"

"No, do you hear me. It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done!"

"My son… Gwydre. That bastard has my son and killed Merlin," Arthur sobbed. It was hard, Hunith thought, to imagine this man had a son - two sons - when he looked so much like a lost boy himself. She pulled him toward her and wrapped her arms around him. She was short in comparison to his broad frame, but he managed to hide his face in the crook of her neck and let her hold him. She could feel his warm tears on her the bare skin of her throat.

"There is still hope. Always hope."

"He's dead," he said anyways. " Merlin's dead and I'm so sorry. So sorry I couldn't protect him like he's protected me."

She swallowed thickly before placing her lips on top of his head in a soft kiss. She continued to hold him for a long time. There was hardly any chance her son still lived, yes, but she wasn't giving up until they had absolute proof. She had accepted the fact that Merlin might be gone, but she wasn't going to completely give up on him. Until then, she'd reassure Arthur, the king that seemed too much like a young prince. Practically her second son, he was, and he was breaking down before her.

"We must have hope…" She murmured into his hair.

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Far away, Delwyn sat next to Merlin, brushing her fingers through his sodden hair. Then, with a suddenness that sent the girl reeling back in surprise, Merlin's eyes shot open and he gasped for air.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: May 10th, 2015! That was when I last updated this story. It's been close to two years! TWO! I don't even have excuses. Life has just kind of been... Life, y'know? Then I kept putting off writing this and never got back to it. However, I have received some pretty amazing reviews and I knew I just HAD to continue. I just didn't know how anymore. I have not abandoned this story though. I'm just... working at it slowly. Also, anxiety is a b*tch guys. SO, yeah. I'm sorry it's been so long. Even I had to read my own story to refresh. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I will attempt to update soon. Happy New Year! We got this ;P Thanks for all the support! **

***Flies away on a now very lazy dragon***

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Merlin was not a stranger to pain at this point in his life. Whether it be poison or an arrow in the gut, he'd dealt with all the physical blows life threw his way. However, waking up in that moment, he was certain he had never quite felt a pain so distinct. His whole body felt as if it were burning, something which he had also had experience with. Recently it had seemed as if he was always burning. Only this was different. The agonizing, pulsating pain in his stomach was not like fire but rather boiling water. His head was pounding, his ears were ringing, and the back of his eyes felt so annoyingly pressed upon he thought he may just explode from the pressure. Still, it was the heat, melting his insides that just _hurt_ so much more than anything else. He wanted to scream, but even Merlin's throat felt hot and desert-like, leaving him without a voice.

"Shh, just take some deep breaths. You're going to be okay with time, don't worry. You're alright," a voice tried to soothe from above him. He recognized it if perhaps only a little, and yet he couldn't put a face to the sweet sound. "Deep breaths, Merlin. In and out, like so." He felt his hand being lifted. It caused sparks of pain all throughout his arm. It burned so ferociously, it was hard to believe he wasn't sitting in a pool of lava. Then his hand was rested against something. No. Someone. He couldn't see but he could feel the soft skin of someone's chest, feel the hard clavicle underneath. Merlin's hand fell and lifted again with each breath the person took. It was calming, and soon enough he found himself no longer gasping for air like he had only moments ago.

"That's it, deep breaths. You're alright." It was a girl, Merlin noted as she spoke again. A name came to mind, almost feeling like a far off memory.

"D-Delwyn?" Merlin groaned. The hand still holding his own tightened its grasp. Ah, so he got it right then. Her name was one thing, however. Who she actually was, was another feat entirely.

"Yes. Yes it's me, your friend. Can you open your eyes..?" Her query was reasonable but the warlock wasn't certain he _could_ open them. Everything still hurt so damn much. Still, Merlin found himself trying, with every ounce of strength he had, to open his eyes and see this girl.

Merlin didn't know if this was a bad idea or not. It was so bright. Colors flashed and flickered like dying flames in front of him. Sunlight cast itself upon everything creating an angelic glow. Delwyn was sat in front of him, still holding tightly onto his pale hand, and she looked so… Happy. He still couldn't remember exactly who she was, and yet she was smiling such a magnificent smile, one that was directed at him, and it just took his breath away. Again.

"Hey," her smile wavered. "Deep breaths, remember?"

"Y-Yeah," Merlin sounded bad even to himself.

"I'm sorry it hurts so much, the spell that Cenewig cast on you not only disabled your magic but made it certain that you would die very slowly and very painfully. Cenewig's always been powerful – nowhere near as powerful as you, of course – but he's smart too, and he used that to his advantage I guess. He nearly brought havoc. Imagine what the powers of the Old Religion would do if the great Emrys were to die…" Delwyn trailed off. She was looking everywhere but at Merlin at that point, her smile long gone. She continued her hold on his hand, however.

"Delwyn?" Memories started to return. The warlock recalled the many months sat in bed, slowly fading, with Delwyn at his side keeping him company. She had always brought stories to tell him, and he'd always tried to make conversation with her, thank her for all her kindness. She had taken care of him, been there in his last moments, as everything finally went quiet, long after he had stopped seeing. She was a friend.

"Yes?" She looked back to him, her brown eyes so very magical in the way the way they reminded him of the earth. Eye's so different to that of the wonderful blue eyes that Gwydre had.

_Gwydre_.

His godson, the second prince of Camelot, the _magical_ prince. Merlin remembered everything with a suddenness that hurt.

"Where's Gwydre?" Merlin's voice was returning now. Already he felt stronger than he had in months despite feeling no magic still.

"He's in the nursery. Safe, I promise you," Delwyn assured him. She knew it wouldn't be enough though. Not this time, not after five months of not seeing him. "I'll go get him. Rest, and I'll be back." Merlin merely nodded, jaw tight.

Delwyn scurried from the room and rushed to the nursery where she knew Gwydre would be playing. Angelica was there, sitting with eyes like a hawk watching the prince's every move. She glanced up for only a second when Delwyn barged in, then went back to her important job.

"De!" The baby squealed in delight. Time with Delwyn was always a fun time. "De!"

"Yes, I'm here, little prince," Delwyn spoke to him, kneeling to pick him up. "I can look after him for a while, Angelica. Go enjoy some time to yourself."

Angelica simply nodded her thanks and left.

"Ready to go see your uncle, darling?" Delwyn asked, receiving a happy gurgle in response. She snuck back out of the nursery and headed back towards the warlocks temporary chambers. The hallways were empty and silent, which would normally unnerve Delwyn but this time she was thankful for it. It made getting back to Merlin faster and easier.

"Merlin?" She entered the room, eyes immediately finding the warlock who hadn't moved since she left as she expected. "I've brought a visitor."

Merlin turned his head slowly, ignoring the pain, to see the best thing he could have ever wished for. Gwydre, happy and healthy in the arms of Delwyn, reaching out to him. Even after all this time, the child could still at least sense the magic buried deep within Merlin and know who he was. Delwyn took no time in setting the prince on the side of the bed.

"Hello, Gwydre," Merlin murmured. Tears gathered in his eyes before falling slowly down his hollow cheeks. His nephew was safe. He hadn't failed his family yet. Oh, and how the boy had grown! He had Arthur's eyes, but everything else screamed Gwen. Merlin reached out to him, his hand unsteady, and Gwydre caught it in his own two.

"Nearly half a year old now," Delwyn said.

"I can't believe it… Thank you. For this – for everything – just, thank you," Merlin croaked.

Delwyn wiped away some moisture from her own eyes and sniffed, "I promise you, Emrys, I'll get the both of you home to your family. I'll right the wrongs done here, I swear."

Merlin, who now had an armful of Gwydre looked up in surprise.

"But why?"

Delwyn had thought about that question herself for some time now. For a while she couldn't come up with a reason, not certain why she was so adamant on helping Emrys and the youngest prince of Camelot. King Uther had destroyed her life, made her live in fear. Cenewig had saved her so many times, had been there for her growing up, she should be on his side and no one else's. Except that she had seen the new kingdom, seen how Arthur now ruled, and realized she was less afraid of Camelot now than she was of Cenewig. The things of the past were wrong, but seeking revenge now would only cause more pain and she wanted no part of it. Helping take Merlin and Gwydre from their family was the worst thing she could have done. It was time to repent. It was time to stand up for what _she_ believed it.

"Because I believe in you and your destiny Emrys. You've already come about the Golden Age in my opinion, and what Cenewig has planned will only bring more fear and suffering. I want that to end."

Merlin smiled. With one arm still wrapped securely around Gwydre, he took his other and reached out to Delwyn. She took his hand in hers and held it tightly.

Gwydre sat up suddenly then and crawled closer to Merlin's head. The babe sat with what looked like almost a perplexed look on his face before leaning forward and pressing his hands on either side of Merlin's face.

"Gwydre what –" Merlin stopped, as he felt a sudden surge of magical energy. Any remaining pain that had still lingered within his body dissipated and the world stopped tilting, his sight suddenly becoming clear and more colorful than ever before. His lungs no longer burned with every breath and the constant pounding in his head faded to nothing. Gwydre bounced happily, giggling as he clapped his hands together.

"What just happened? What was that?" Delwyn asked, eyes wide. If she had felt that magic, she could only imagine what Emrys might be feeling.

"I do believe," Merlin grinned. "That our little prince has just unblocked my magic."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey humans! What a start to the year, huh? Two updates in the same amount of days! Maybe I'm just making up for my long absence xD **

**_So_, things are going to start getting a little confusing because we have a _huge _time jump here. Don't worry though everything will clear up eventually and things with Merlin, Delwyn, and Gwydre are all going to be explained in one way or another. I wanted to give a HUGE**** thanks for all the amazing feedback and encouragement! A shout out to Irisofthesky for that novel of a review, it means more than I can express!**

**I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Until next time ~**

***Flies Away On Dragon***

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"It's been four years, Arthur. There has been no sign of them anywhere," Gwen said. Her hope had long since diminished that she might find her second child. As the years had continued on, she simply began to grieve for the loss of time knowing full well that Gwydre was alive and that she was missing him grow up. She also grieved for the boy and man that would inevitably never grow from Gwydre, as he would be raised to be a monster – someone so full of hate and anger that love wouldn't even be imaginable. Gwen wept for her child, lost in this war of magic that had long since been over. She wept for the hate in her gut against Uther Pendragon for ever having created such a war. She wept for her husband, who still had hope, for not only their son, but for Merlin as well.

"I'm aware of the time past, Guinevere," Arthur told her. "I am also aware of our lack of findings to their whereabouts. It's not as if I still have all our resources out looking for them, and it wasn't even my idea to begin with that we go –"

"So what? Gwaine, then? He came to you with this plan to go out and search some more?" She didn't want to argue with him, but she was scared and sometimes fear festered into anger.

"It will be the inner knights, our family, Guinevere, who will be riding out with me. What is the trouble of a few searches a year? How is it any different to a week-long hunting party?"

"Then I'm coming with you."

"What? No!" Arthur had to make her see reason. "You need to stay, Camelot can't have both its king and queen gone searching through woods on a lost cause!"

That made them both go silent.

"So you believe it's a lost cause?" Gwen didn't want to ask the question. It made her heart ache, but things like this needed to be talked about.

"No – I didn't – no. Just please. Stay." He was thankful to be in the confines of their chambers, hidden from prying eyes. It allowed him this moment of weakness as he dropped his head to his wife's shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist simply trying to gain comfort.

"I miss them, with all my heart, Arthur. By the _gods_, I miss them so much. I want to find them just as badly as you, but it has been _four_ years… I just don't want to lose anyone else," her confession made tears gather in her eyes and cascade down her cheeks. She _wept_ for the son she never got to know and for a best friend lost because of this silly, silly war.

"I know – I know," Arthur held her tighter. "You mustn't worry though, we'll be back before the end of next week, I promise you! But you have to stay here, think of Amr – Hunith too."

As if he had heard them, the eldest prince himself sprang through the large doors of the chambers bouncing with excitement and life that very few had since Gwydre and Merlin were stolen from them.

"Mother, father! Uncle Percy carved this horse for me with wood from the old cut down tree in the training ground. Isn't it beautiful!?" Amr, now eight years old and much too large to be carried, ran into the arms of his mother for a hug. He turned, head rested against Gwen's stomach, and held the horse up for both parents to see. The queen ran her fingers through his hair and smiled.

"It is a very beautiful horse, indeed, Amr," She told him.

"What are you to call it?" Arthur asked, kneeling down to be on level with his son. He'd have to thank Percival later for giving his son such a gift.

"I'm not sure… I was thinking about calling him Emrys."

Both adults drew in a breath, their smiles fading. Even though Amr still remembered Merlin, and both kind and queen would do whatever it took to preserve that memory, the name Emrys had not been spoken in years. Even before Gwydre had been born, the name had only been mentioned at formal gatherings or council meetings, none of which Amr was old enough to attend.

"Amr," Gwen began. "Where did you hear that name?"

"I think it came to me in a dream. I don't really remember, but I like it. Do you like it?"

"Yes, it's a perfect name for that horse, I think," Arthur said. He then leaned forward and kissed the small boy on the forehead. "Why don't you go and show the horse to grammy?"

Amr pouted and looked down at his feet before he murmured, "she fell asleep again. She wasn't even reading or anything she was just watching me play and when I remembered the horse I went to show her but she wouldn't wake up."

Gwen and Arthur shared a worried glance. The summer of the previous year Gaius had fallen ill and hadn't been able to recover, passing away in his sleep. It had been a difficult time for the entirety of Camelot, as everyone knew the physician and mourned his loss. It had nearly destroyed the royal family and knights of the roundtable. They had already lost so much. However, it was Hunith who had taken his death the hardest. She fell into a depression and for a long while stopped eating and wasn't sleeping. It took a long time for the family to bring her back from the darkness she had lost herself in. Still, with Merlin still gone and nearly all hope lost that he may return, the woman they all loved as a mother was broken. She was sick. It hurt Arthur exceptionally so to see her like that having dealt with a father whose mental health fell to nothing.

"How about we go back and check on her together, darling? Come now," Gwen held out her hand to Amr and the child took it without hesitation. Arthur watched them walk out, seeing his wife turn around before she was completely out of sight.

"I believe in you, Arthur. Good luck," she said before turning again and walking away, Amr in tow.

That was all Arthur needed to head towards the training grounds, where he knew his most trusted knights would be, and tell them to prepare for yet another search.

[^-^]BREAK[^-^]

"How did you convince the lovely Gwen to let you do this?" Gwaine inquired with an impish grin. He and Arthur were riding up front, Percival and Leon following close behind. They were making their way through the Darkling Woods in order to make it to Mercia.

"I didn't need her to _let_ me do anything," Arthur grumbled.

"Yeah, that's why after we asked you to do this you didn't give us an answer and went straight to your chambers, to not ask her majesty for permission, right sire?" Leon jested. The three knights laughed as Arthur shook his head.

"She wanted to come, actually," Arthur informed the group. "She's concerned – rightfully so, I suppose, and well, I assume it was either come with us and keep us out of trouble or not let us go at all."

"Yet she's not here," Percival observed.

"No. There's Amr to look after, and Gwen didn't want to leave Hunith."

"Well no matter the reason, and whatever the outcome of this, I'm glad to have gotten out. I was getting an itch. Been too long since we've left the comfort of Camelot, I think," Gwaine admitted. Percival and Leon nodded in silent agreement.

"Enough chatting for now, we have to hurry up if we're going to make the border before nightfall," Arthur noted before clicking his tongue to get his horse moving faster.

"Loser owes me a drink and an apple pie!" Gwaine shouted before rushing ahead, quickly followed by the others.

They road all throughout the day, only stopping once around noon in order to eat a small lunch. They joked and reminisced about Merlin's cooking and such other things. Arthur was thinking about how right Gwaine had been. No matter what came from this outing it was refreshing to just be out of the castle again. They hadn't taken time to laugh in a long time, and even though they were on a mission to find Gwydre and maybe even Merlin, it was good to be having fun in between all the seriousness. As they neared the border of Mercia, the sun just beginning to set in the distance, their spirits felt lifted in a way. They were closing in on the boarder and Percival was telling an embarrassing story that had something to do with a wild boar when Arthur suddenly motioned for them to be quiet.

"Do you hear that?" The king asked.

"No –" Leon was interrupted as a young woman stumbled from the bushes.

Arthur jumped down off his horse as she tripped. She awkwardly fell into his arms but made no move to stand up and instead continued to fall closer to the ground becoming a dead weight. Her soft features were hidden under a layer of mud, her hair was a mess of twigs and leaves, and blood caked the side of her face.

"I'm s'rry…" She mumbled, her words hardly coherent.

"What's happened to her?" Gwaine asked, coming forward. Arthur was now kneeling on the ground, cradling her in his arms. Her eyes seemed to look over each knight and then fall back on Arthur.

"Just an accident," She said. "I need to find my family."

"What's your name?" Arthur questioned.

"Delwyn. My Name is Delwyn."


	10. Chapter 10

**I like how the _ending _of this chapter turned out. The rest of it, I had trouble with. It's also short in length. Next chapter should be much longer and we should finally be delving into why it took _four_ years for Merlin and Gwydre to find their way back to their family. Thanks for all the continued support and wonderful reviews! Until next time (;**

***Flies away on hungry dragon***

* * *

Night had fallen, camp had been set, each knight had slept and taken watch at least once, and then the sun had risen again all by the time Delwyn woke up. It was as slow process at first. The first thing she felt was the warmth of a fire burning close by. Soon after she began to hear the chatter of various men, their voices calm and lighthearted. Behind them, were birds chirping in the distance, alerting her that it was morning. Delwyn opened her eyes cautiously and was greeted by the sky. It was a breathtaking blue, its view only blocked by the many surrounding trees and passing clouds. She was relieved to wake up with a view such as this, having become so friendly with the chilled walls and chains of – no, she wouldn't think of that now.

"I see our damsel in distress has awoken! How do you feel?" Gwaine asked, before taking a bite of an apple.

Delwyn attempted to sit up rather than reply. She hissed in pain as the bruises decorating her abdomen burned. The largest of all the men quickly came to her aid, helping her sit up against a fallen tree. She smiled her thanks at the giant, so large in comparison to her, before she reached up to touch her forehead. It was bandaged, and although not done with much skill, it had stopped the bleeding coming from her small head wound. Delwyn was also clean of the mud that had before plastered itself to her face. She looked around at the small group wondering what kind of men would go through such trouble to help a girl like herself.

"Who – who are you?" She questioned, hoping to not sound too rude. There was, however, something about them that seemed oddly familiar. She assumed they were knights, or warriors of some kind as they were dressed in chain-mail and armor. The blonde, who she remembered stumbling into from before, stood to address her question.

"I am King Arthur of Camelot," he answered. Delwyn would have fallen over again if Percival weren't still supporting her. "These are my Knights of The Round Table. Percival, Gwaine, and Leon." They each nodded respectively.

"You're King Arthur?" Delwyn whispered in awe. She realized then why they looked so familiar. She had never seen them in person, but Merlin's stories of them were always long and detailed. He often told them, when either she nor Gwydre could sleep. They were always such great tales, speaking of heroics and glory, but also friendship and family. The men in front of her were the characters, some of whom just like she imagined. She might of thought Percival to be a little shorter but...

The stories didn't matter though. They were there, in front of her. After such a long time of suffering, of wishing Merlin and Gwydre could go home. Now Arthur was there and everything would be so much easier.

"Are you alright?" Leon asked, both concerned and partially amused at her reaction. Percival's hold on her tightened as tears gathered in her eyes.

"You found us…" She murmured, more to herself than to them.

"More like you found _us_, tumbling in to his majesty's arms like that," Gwaine laughed. It had the desired effect of making Delwyn blush uncontrollably, lightning the mood. She started sputtering out apologies but stopped when Arthur hushed her and proceeded to whack the boisterous knight upside the head. Then the king walked to her and kneeled down, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"What's the matter?" He asked. Delwyn could not help but reach up and place a hand to his cheek. Although confused, Arthur didn't move.

"You share the same eyes… So blue," She said, voice barely above a whisper. "Merlin always said he had your eyes, but I could never imagine how similar…" Delwyn trailed off then, but her gaze on Arthur still did not waver. The knights had all frozen in place around them. The king pulled back, shut his eyes tight, and shook his head.

"Did you just say – Did you say Merlin?" Arthur questioned, suddenly not so calm. Delwyn still didn't break her gaze.

"Yes."

"How do you know him?"

"He is a dear friend."

"You know where he is?"

That made Delwyn stop in her tracks. She might know where he was. If he hadn't ran off looking for her during the night.

"_Merlin, where are you?_" She sent telepathically.

"Do you know where he is, Delwyn?" Arthur persisted. He was getting agitated. This was the closest they had been to finding Merlin and Gwydre in four long years. Not once had they found answers, or even any clues. Every person ever questioned merely lead them to more dead ends. Then they found this girl – injured and seemingly lost – who Arthur had never met before, and she claimed to be a 'dear friend' of Merlin's. She spouted off nonsense about his eyes and how they were similar – to whom, the king could only hope. "Please! Do you know Merlin's whereabouts!?"

"_Gwydre and I are up the river, close now. Are you alright? I sense others among you._" Merlin responded.

Delwyn ignored Arthur's plea's to bask in relief for a moment and then, "_Arthur's here._"

It went silent. Delwyn could hear nothing but Arthur's consistent pleading in the background.

"_I'll be there soon,_" Merlin said suddenly. She could tell even through the telepathy that he was beyond happy. She was too, if she were being honest. This was all great news.

"Perhaps we scared her. This could be shock?" Percival suggested. Delwyn realized abruptly she'd been staring off at nothing for who knows how long. Percival still had a hold on one of her arms, keeping her steady, while Leon and Gwaine stood back and observed. Arthur was pacing like a mad man, back and forth in front of her.

"No, I'm fine. I was a bit shocked, but I'm fine," Delwyn assured them as she gathered her baring's. Arthur stopped pacing and turned to her, face now more hardened than before.

"You said you knew him?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Do you," Arthur questioned, slowly this time, punctuating every word. "Know where he is?"

"Yes."

"I didn't think – wait… what?" Arthur was nearly certain he was about to fall over. He might have if it weren't for the steady hand Leon placed on his forearm.

"Did you just say you know where Merlin is?" Gwaine continued more clearly.

"Yes. I was just talking to –" Delwyn began to explain, but was not half way through when a very disheveled warlock, carrying nothing but a pack and holding the hand of a four year old prince, ran through the brush. He was panting, as if he had run the entire way there. Yet, despite that and the dirt and scratches marring his appearance, the largest, brightest smile rested on his face.

"Sorry, we're a bit late," Merlin said, still out of breath but holding that smile. "Heard you were in the area and wanted to drop by for a visit."

Delwyn chuckled at the slack-jawed, bug-eyed faces of the knights and king. She then ran forward and scooped up a sleepy looking Gwydre.

"Merlin?" Arthur finally choked out. "It's really you..."

If it was possible, the warlock's smile only grew.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** ***sigh* Alright, humans. I know that I said there would start being some explanation for the time gap in this chapter - and I fully intended on it! But, I just found the perfect place to end, and decided to put off explanation and all the hard work until chapter 12. I shall not fail you next time, I promise! **

**I probably shouldn't have been writing past 2:00 A.M. Maybe that's why I got lazy. I was also really proud of this chapter but then I was having second thoughts like 'no this won't do' and I really just need mental help honestly. But I'd love to hear what you think. You've all been massively supportive and wonderful, so thank you! Also, to whomever asked if I wanted guest reviews, the answer is: Of course! All reviews are welcome! I love them. I literally spent an hour talking to my best friend about all the amazing reviews I was getting and how happy they were making me. So keep 'em coming, okay? ;p**

**Sorry, for such a long a/n, I hope you all enjoy this one. See you soon!**

***Flies away on dragon***

* * *

No one had moved since Delwyn picked up Gwydre – and the young child had since fallen asleep in her arms. It wasn't tense. No; in fact, the atmosphere around the camp felt quite the opposite. The air was… lighter than it had been before. Happier even. It was perhaps only the shock that kept everyone at a standstill doing nothing other than gape and stare at the warlock they had all presumed dead only minutes previous. Merlin, on the other hand, just waited, calm and yet not. He felt obligated to resist the urge to hug the friends he had missed so dearly and instead let them recover. Still, it was taking longer than expected, and it was making him jittery. Then, as if slightly crazed, Gwaine began to laugh. Then he laughed some more.

Merlin simply smiled. He had missed that sound.

"He's – oh, he's really – ha!" Gwaine's attempt at speech seemed to be what the other's needed to come forth from their dream-like states.

"Yes, he is…" Percival trailed off in agreement as if he understood the former knights babbling.

"Alive. Here. In front of us at this very moment?" Leon suggested. He ran a hand through his blonde curls and shook his head. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Not only was Merlin, their dear friend, standing before them, but he presumed Prince Gwyrdre was the young lass being held by Delwyn. No one imagined ever seeing either of them again – or at least, in Gwydre's case, for many more years to come.

"Merlin?" Arthur said, or rather asked, his voice uncertain and fragile. The king was afraid that if he were to just blink too long or look away he'd find himself awake suddenly having dreamt this all up. Merlin was standing in front of him, and _Gods_, was that his son there? In Delwyn's arms, sleeping so peacefully? He looked so precious and youthful, seemingly untouched by the hate that Cenewig promised to enforce upon him.

"I'm here," Merlin more or less assured his brother. "I'm back."

Tears were freely falling from Arthur's eyes then, if they hadn't been before. Once, long ago, he would have been embarrassed or ashamed to shed tears in front of his knights, and a lady no less. His own father had instilled the saying within his mind for so long to cry for no man, and yet here he was, nearly sobbing because it wasn't a dream. Merlin was _there_.

"Prat," Merlin sniffled before he bounded forward to meet his king halfway. He wrapped his long arms around Arthur without hesitation and found his face very quickly hidden in the crook of his neck. The warlock continued to smile even as tears raced down his cheeks and onto Arthur's back. Armor, that long ago he was tasked to polish after every battle or even a simple escapade, dug into his chest as he clung onto the man before him for dear life. After four tiresome years, he finally felt at home again, even for just that fleeting moment.

Arthur was joyous, his spirits uplifted, and all sadness formally pressed down on his shoulders seemed to have disappeared. He held tightly onto the material of Merlin's cloak, almost pulling the man closer. An irrational voice in the back of Arthur's brain suggested ideas like Merlin suddenly disappearing again if he were to let go too soon. He would have held on longer if another pressing someone didn't enter his thoughts.

"Gwydre?" Arthur whispered for only Merlin to hear. He didn't want to have raised his hopes to much for them only to be dashed. However, the name made the warlock pull back from their long embrace and give the king that ridiculously blinding smile again. Merlin stepped aside and gestured with his head to the child in Delwyn's arms. The other knights took this opportunity to swarm Merlin with hugs and pats on the back of their own all while Arthur walked slowly toward the woman he had helped without question.

Gwydre was so much larger than he remembered. So big, in fact, he was surprised Delwyn could carry him for so long. He looked so much like Gwen, more so than Amr ever did at that age. His cheeks, his nose, his dark curly hair – it all so perfectly reminded him of Guinevere. Amr's hair was just as curly, but much lighter, and he had Arthur's broad face. Both their children were so incredibly beautiful though, it took his breath away at the mere thought. He had been losing hope that he'd ever see Gwydre so innocent and young.

"He has your eyes," Delwyn commented, drawing him away from his thoughts. She adjusted the boy, lifting him up higher on her hip and then brushing a stray hair behind his ear before she continued. "That's what I was trying to tell you earlier, although I doubt I was being very clear. His eyes are – well they're just like yours. When he wakes up, you'll see."

Arthur smiled at the woman who clearly cared for his son. Only last night she stumbled into his arms and he thought her nothing more than a stranger. Yet he had a feeling that without her, this reunion would not be happening.

"You're – uhm – you're looking a little tired there. I could…" Arthur gestured to his son, not sure how to proceed. Delwyn just smiled kindly at the request.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind being held by his father for a bit. He won't startle either, he has a way of sensing friendly company," she told him before easing the child into the kings waiting arms. Gwydre remained fast asleep, looking more comfortable than ever, even as his head rested against the cold breastplate of Arthur's armor. He looked like he was where he belonged, Delwyn thought.

Merlin, who had been listening to Gwaine rant about how unfair the 'princess' had been since he'd been gone, turned to look at the scene with content. He caught Delwyn's eye and shared an unspoken conversation with her.

_We did it._

_We're finally safe. _

_Gwydre's safe._

The likes of which was interrupted as Leon came forth with a question. "Merlin, not that I'm not positively happy to see you, but where have you _been_? It's been four years."

Arthur turned to him, and wondered the same thing. He couldn't be more pleased than in that moment but Merlin had simply been traveling through the woods by the looks of things – with a random girl _and_ his son. He needed to know what happened.

"It's a long story," the warlock responded. The question seemed to take away all the joy he had been feeling and instead fill him with dread. He walked over to Delwyn to stand beside her, taking comfort in the fact that she understood. She was there, and perhaps suffered more than he did.

"Then explain it to us, Merlin," Arthur said softly. He only wanted to understand.

"Perhaps, when we get back to Camelot? That way we only have to tell the story once. I'd like to go home now too, if you wouldn't mind, and see everyone. Gwen, Gaius, my mother, and Amr – gosh, how old is he now… Eight?" Merlin responded, steadfast in his decision to get home.

The knights grew silent, their faces etched with grief and the sadness at having to tell their friend such bad news.

"Mate, Gaius he – he passed away last summer. It was peaceful. Gone in his sleep," Gwaine stepped up and explained. Merlin shut his eyes tight, took in a deep breath of air, and shook his head in denial. Because the closest thing he had ever had to a father could not be dead. Not now, not when he was almost home.

"I'm sorry, Merlin…" Percival said with full sincerity, speaking for everyone.

"No, he was fine. He was fine!" Merlin collapsed to his knees, Delwyn following after him and holding tight onto his right hand that tremored. No one moved after that as he wept for his guardian. The heavy foliage surrounding them rustled in the heavy breeze and the river nearby ran furiously over the rocks of which it was forced to travel. The horses whinnied, the fire crackled, and Gwydre let out a tired yawn all as Merlin tried to stifle his cries of anguish.

"My mother – I remember my mother being at Camelot," Merlin managed to choke out. He leaned heavily against Delwyn for support.

"Yes. Hunith was a great deal of help to us for a long time," Arthur told him, not sure how to proceed any further than that.

"And now?" Merlin inquired.

"She remains at Camelot… Although her heart is broken and all hope shattered that you might return," the king gently handed his son to Percival so he could go to Merlin's side. He pulled the warlock into his arms and cradled him as if he were Amr. "But you are coming home now. The sight of you will surely start mending her heart again… Gods, Merlin, I'm so sorry. I promise everything will be alright."

Merlin merely nodded against his plated chest.

[^-^]BREAK[^-^]

It was nearing nightfall when they reached the borders of the castle. Merlin 'whooped' and hollered in excitement from the back of Gwaine's horse when they were finally able to see the turrets over the trees. Delwyn, who was with Leon, smiled brightly in anticipation. Never once had she entered Camelot without fear of some kind hanging over her head, and now it was a symbol of victory. They had made it! It was almost time to rest, and she hoped soon, she could call that magnificent city home as well.

When they entered the gates not much later all eyes were on them. People gazed in wonder and awe as they caught eye of the Court Warlock riding back of Sir Gwaine. He had been thought dead for four years, and now the cheery young man – though not so young anymore they mused – was back and looked as well as ever.

Gwydre was also awake and full of excitement. So much fun he was having while sitting in front of the man who was his father, on a great big horse, riding into a great big city. He watched as people began to crowd the streets, some cheering, others throwing flowers and such other things. It was almost too much to take in. His magic hummed quietly beneath his skin, making him feel warm and welcome to this new place, and suddenly it wasn't so frightening anymore. In fact, it was if he – or rather his magic – recognized it all. Every street, shop, market stall, man, woman, and child. This place felt like _home_.

"Merlin, you're long overdue for a visit to The Rising Sun with me, mate," Gwaine said with his signature grin as they passed the tavern. "I'm sure dear old Berthilda would give you a few free drinks to make up for time lost."

"And I'm sure you've gone mad if you think Berthilda would give free – anything!" Merlin chuckled.

"Oh, Merlin! We must go sometime," Delwyn cut in. "I've never been to an actual tavern before, and I'm as old as you!"

"You're Merlin's age?" Percival asked in shock, having assumed she was much younger. Meanwhile Gwaine was feigning a heart attack of high dramatic proportions.

"She's never been to a tavern? Tell me you've at least had drink before?"

Delwyn suppressed a giggle while shaking her head back and forth.

"We must right this wrong! I declare we all go out and celebrate tomorrow night – and the bill can go directly to his highness!"

The situation was so lighthearted that all Arthur could do was laugh. Then they entered the citadel where the king quickly spotted Guinevere standing next to Amr and everything just seemed so... perfect.

"Mommy?" Gwydre piped up. His magic buzzed with familiarity at the sight of Gwen, and Merlin had told the boy enough stories about his parents for him to know that the woman standing there was his mother. Arthur dismounted and lifted his son off the horse in the time it took for Gwen to run to them with her arms out and tears streaming down her face. Amr followed close behind her, so as she fell to the ground to embrace Gwydre and smother him in kisses, Arthur went to hug his eldest.

"You're safe and you're home and you're so, so precious," Gwen said to the boy whose face she held in her hands. He smiled at her before hugging her again.

"Mommy."

"I love you, Gwydre. My beautiful baby boy," She pulled him closer, not daring to let go, before reaching out a hand to Amr and Arthur. The eldest prince fell into her waiting arms beside his brother and Arthur knelt down and wrapped his arms around them all. "I love all of you," She whispered. Then Gwen's gaze shifted upwards and fell on Merlin and she let out a gasp. He was simply standing there watching the reunion with a content smile, and the queen was having none of that.

"Merlin," oh, how she had missed him. "Get over here, right now."

Merlin swallowed the lump in his throat and made quick work of her request, for how could he deny the queen? She stared at him for a long moment, trying to convey how much he was loved too, how much he had been missed, and how glad she was that he was here for this. Then Gwen pulled him down between her and Arthur, and his head landed on her shoulder where it stayed as they all sat there and drew comfort from each other. Because in that moment, everything was alright again.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Sorry for my absence! I should be getting through the next few chapters more quickly but I'm not going to make any promises because we all know how that works out! **

**More reunions this chapter and then we begin to delve into our four year time gap shenanigans! But that explanation is still gonna take a few chapters I think ;P **

**Anyways, enjoy this one! And thank you for all the wonderful reviews, I'm sorry I never get around to thanking you all individually (you deserve it, I just slack). Until next time!**

***Flies away on dragon***

* * *

It was a long time before anyone dared break away from each other. The inner knights kindly pushed onlookers away as the royal family continued their tearful reunion. Delwyn sat on the steps leading up to the castle with an easy smile on her face as she simply observed the happy scene for all it was worth. The loud chatter and bustle of the city's people could still be heard from the courtyard and the strong aromas from the shops and market stalls wafted up from the streets. The warmth of the sun made it that much more perfect. It was so perfect, and good, that that moment in time seemed frozen and tucked away suddenly for a rainy in the future when it might be needed. What seemed like forever passed by when Gwaine finally moved to crouch beside them, kneeling on the cool cobblestone. He placed a steady hand on Arthur's shoulder while Amr, who had always taking a liking to him and was getting restless in the group hug, got to him and began climbing to his shoulders.

"I believe someone else is in need of a good hug from our Merlin, sire." Gwaine said all the while helping Amr sit properly so the boy wasn't pulling his hair.

Merlin, whose face was still hidden in Gwen's neck, began to shift. The queen, however, didn't relinquish her hold on him nor Gwydre who still sat in her lap. Arthur nodded in agreement to Gwaine and began to rise, helping his wife and best friend to their feet as well. Even as they started their trek up toward the castle, however, Gwen held Gwydre and kept an arm wrapped around Merlin so he remained tucked at her side.

Gwaine who was now walking beside Arthur with Amr on his shoulders leaned towards the king and grinned. "She's not letting go of them anytime soon, is she?"

"I wouldn't count on it, friend," Arthur smiled back.

"So much for taking Merlin to the tavern to celebrate."

"We can go to the tavern together, Uncle Gwaine," Amr said from above, trying to make the man happy again. Gwaine, who was only feigning being put out, choked on a laugh and accepted the well-deserved punch in the arm from Arthur. Things were getting back to normal already.

[^_^]BREAK[^_^]

Delwyn joined Merlin, Gwen, and Gwydre as they headed for Hunith's chambers. She wasn't sure if she wanted to partake in this particular reunion but she still didn't know anyone that well and felt safest around Merlin. Gwen seemed kind too, and if Delwyn were being honest, she also wanted to keep an eye on Gwydre. She had been doing it for so long now it just seemed natural. Percival and Leon had been very nice as well, and while riding back Leon had tried making conversation with her a few times. She was awkward in the best situations though, so she was certain she didn't make a bright first impression. Gwaine was the most open and easiest to talk to but she'd hardly gotten a chance to actually get to know the man. They had all left a while ago with Arthur prepare a place for them eat a late lunch and discuss… things. Things like where she and Merlin had been the past four years. Which was not something she was looking forward to and neither was Merlin. She was particularly afraid though that once they learned that she wasn't just some stranger who had helped Merlin but originally aided in his and Gwydre's abduction they'd cast her out.

Merlin suddenly turned to her and held out his hand. Gwen, who still had hold of his other arm, looked at her with nothing but kindness. It was as if they knew what she had been thinking. Which for the warlock wouldn't have been that strange, but she hadn't thought Guinevere possessed magic. The queen chuckled then.

_So she does know what I'm thinking…? _

"I'm just really good at reading people," Gwen said with a wink.

"No, _you've_ really just been the psychic one all this time, not me. Don't listen to her, Delwyn," Merlin insisted.

There's something about what he's just said that makes the queen's smile grow. Gwydre giggled too at all the happiness and Delwyn is taking Merlin's hand after that. Gwen was quickly dragging them forward again though, and into a room at the end of the corridor. It was nothing like the rooms within Cenewig's castle. It was clean and bright, all the furniture new and of the best quality. Almost every surface had a vase full of different flowers and a bookshelf in the corner was filled to the brim with more literature than Delwyn had ever seen. Sitting in a chair by a large window overlooking the city, sat a frail looking woman with a colorful quilt thrown over her legs. Her long brown hair was let down, shaping her thin face that resembled so much of Merlin if only one was looking for it.

"Mother…?" Merlin breathed out the word with so much emotion he already had to blink to fight away tears.

Hunith visibly flinched and when she turned to face the four people whom had entered her chambers her eyes were wide and lips trembling.

"You're not real." She said, barely above a whisper. Merlin stepped forward with his hands raised, a gentle smile on his face, and his magic reaching out to her.

"It's me. I'm here," he said.

"You're not real." Hunith repeated with a shake of her head, her hair falling in front of her eyes.

"It's really him, Hunith. Gwydre and Merlin have come home to us," Gwen spoke up from behind the warlock. "Merlin is here and he is as real as I am."

Tears sprung forth from the older woman's eyes and she shakily stood from the chair. Hunith's gaze flickered between all occupants in the room, focusing on Gwydre a moment longer, before finally settling on Merlin. She smiled.

"Mother?"

Not a moment later she was in Merlin's arms. Sobbing and gasping out his name and clinging to him for all it was worth. He held her up and buried his nose in her hair. Things weren't perfectly fixed but with this act it was clear both mother and son could begin healing.

"I never gave up hope," she grabbed fistfuls of the cloak he still had not shed. "I never gave up hope," she repeated. "But you were gone for so long, I could only fear the worst… And Gaius… Oh Gaius!" Hunith choked on more sobs.

Merlin could do nothing but nod and hope his presence now was enough. He understood everything his mother was trying to convey but could not yet come to terms with it all. The pain he must have caused, the pain he himself had suffered. Four years – he was surprised his mother was not _more _broken – it was such a long time passed. Merlin held onto Hunith with more strength, less afraid to break her small form and more fearful she would disappear if he were to relinquish his hold. Weren't that why Gwen had yet to let go of Gwydre or turn her eyes away from him? The queen and warlock – perhaps just expressing their fear more clearly than the others – wanted to make certain this was not just a cruel and realistic dream.

"Gaius believed in you until the end," Hunith whispered into Merlin's shoulder. She had said something more, something else to solidify the statement that Gaius was Merlin's ever faithful friend and mentor, but it was lost in her sobs and the fabric of the warlock's shirt.

Merlin nodded again, more tears coming to his eyes. He was home now, but he had missed seeing Gaius again, and for that he would be forever regretful. Merlin was certain his surrogate father would understand why though. He thought of Gwydre then suddenly, and Delwyn as well.

Pulling away from his mother as her cries subsided, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and faced the other occupants of the room. She wiped her eyes and smiled shakily at them before noticing Gwydre again.

"That's… Is that…?"

Gwen stepped forward with a soft grin and the happy crinkles around her eyes she always got when there was good news to be shared. Gwydre immediately reached towards Hunith once she was close enough, his magic recognizing her instantly. Hunith in turn laughed and more tears sprang forth as she reached the remaining distance and scooped him from his mother's arms in order to give him a hug and look him over. Her unfinished question was answered.

"And this is Delwyn," Merlin introduced cautiously, hoping not to overwhelm his mother. "She helped us."

Delwyn, who had not expected an introduction and was simply happy to watch the scene, stood mute for a moment in shock before stepping closer and smiled in a way she hoped she seemed friendly and not shy.

Hunith's sole focus was still on Gwydre but she glanced up at Delwyn for a moment and nothing about the way of her expressions said she distrusted the new person. Then after a while of all standing in a compatible silence Hunith fully looked up at the younger girl and held out the arm that wasn't holding youngest prince.

"Thank you," was all she said, but her grip was tight and reassuring as she held Delwyn's hand, and it was enough.

[^_^]BREAK[^_^]

They had long since gathered in the dining hall to eat lunch and discuss the past four years. They sat at a round table strictly because of the feeling of togetherness it provided, and perhaps a bit of the memories it gave as well. At the table, Arthur and Gwen sat with Gwydre between them, Amr on Guinevere's left and Merlin on Arthur's right. Gwaine sat beside Amr per the child's adamant request – the eight year old had took a rather keen interest in clinging onto the knight whenever possible as of late – and Gwaine saw no reason to refuse. Leon was then to his left making steady conversation with Percival and Delwyn who completed the circle. Hunith, even after being reunited with Merlin, had still said she did not feel well enough to join them all. No one argued and were simply hopeful that now that the prince and the warlock had returned home she would begin to improve.

Arthur was watching as everyone began to finish off their meals when he decided to ask the looming question.

"Merlin," he hesitated a moment longer, afraid almost to ruin the happy atmosphere. "You said earlier, that you'd explain once we were all together," Arthur gestured vaguely around the table. "We're all here."

"Arthur, what are you talking about?" Gwen inquired, her smile still not slipping from her face. The smiles of everyone else had easily dissipated though and Arthur realized he had had a right to be afraid. The change of mood was drastic and everyone could feel it.

Merlin took a large sip of his wine before responding, and he only responded to Gwen. "Arthur wishes to know why it took us four years to come home.

At that, Guinevere's smile dropped too.

"Amr, sweetheart, how about you play with your brother under the table," Gwen suggested.

"Yes, yes! I have my horses too! I always go under the table at feasts, Gwydre. Now that you're here, you can join me!" Amr said happily as he crawled out of his seat and underneath the table. Gwen helped Gwydre join him before looking up at her husband. She began to twirl a strand of her hair, which was a nervous habit that only those closest to her knew she had never stopped.

"They're home. Is that not all that matters?"

Arthur sighed and then nodded. As much as he wanted to know everything, the fact Gwydre and Merlin were finally back with them was truly all he cared about in the end. He didn't need to know anything else.

"Doesn't stop the curiosity though, mate, if I'm being honest."

Gwen reached over and smacked Gwaine on the arm at the same time Leon hit the back of his head.

He hissed in pain. "What?! We were all thinking the same thing!"

Merlin chuckled but his smile was a bit forced and they could all tell even from a mile away. Beside him, Delwyn had gone silent, and her eyes had fallen to where her hands rested on her lap.

"It's a long story…" Merlin said despite the sudden tightness in his voice.

"Merlin, you really don't have to if you –"

Merlin interrupted Arthur before he could continue. "No, you all deserve to know," Delwyn grabbed his hand suddenly and he realized how bad they were both shaking. "It has been four years of you thinking the worst," and perhaps he had to interrupt Arthur so suddenly because otherwise he wouldn't have been able to do this at all. "Four years of Gwydre's life that you missed and only we can tell you about."

His last statement was all it took for Gwen to agree that she might want to actually hear what they had to say. The others were already listening with full attention, all the while Amr and Gwydre were keeping each other entertained at the queen's feet.

"Shall we start at the beginning?" Delwyn whispered. "They should know first and foremost what part I had to play."

Merlin nodded. She gripped his right hand tighter where it now sat clasped between both of hers on her lap.

"I suppose I should begin four years, six months, and ten days ago… This is precisely eight days before Gwydre was born," with one final breath she looked up at the king, the queen, and the knights. "This was also the day that I convinced Cenewig to come to Camelot and cast a spell on Merlin to make him sick."


End file.
